


It Takes a Village to Raise a Child - But, there's a whole lot of children and we are severely understaffed

by xByDefault



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Adult Situations, Alex the human, Chronic Illness, Drug Use, Human!Sportacus, M/M, Property Damage, References to Depression, Slight Role Reversal, Slurs, colleagues to friends to lovers, liberties has been taken regarding the characters ages, references to past Sportacus/Pablo Fantastico, the youth centre AU no one asked for, Íþróttaálfurinn is trying his best handling his brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 103,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xByDefault/pseuds/xByDefault
Summary: Life isn't always what you thought it'd be. When Robbie is forced to go to a job interview he is severely under qualified for, and somehow gets it, he’s in for a journey of self discovery, old demons, nosy albeit well meaning female colleagues and bosses...And then there's Alex, the enigmatic, and very private, senior colleague who may or may not have it out for him.





	1. Third chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie has a job interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I sort out where I'm heading with my other stories THIS ONE has been nagging in the back of my mind to be written. I've mentioned once or twice that Sportacus is basically a recreational youth leader looking after the kids... So here we are, people!

“Uhm, hi? I have an appointment with Elisabeth Busybody.”

The receptionist, a thin man about his own age with an unfortunate nose and narrow set eyes under brown cropped hair looked him up and down with ill-concealed dislike. Robbie shuffled from foot to foot under the stare. He was clean and tidy he reminded himself. Buttoned up shirt and slacks, not too smartly dressed, just right for the occasion. He hoped. “I’ll need to see your ID and for you to sign your name here, please” the man working the desk said flatly and handed over a visitor’s signature sheet.

Robbie fumbled after his ID card and lent it for the receptionist to scrutinise. While he scratched down his name, the man made an internal call. “She’ll be with you in a short while, please have a seat while you wait.”

The waiting room was in a neutral white texture wallpaper, faux flowers in a clear plastic vase on the table by the chair he was hunched in with his jacket folded in his lap. The magazines on the table was up to date, one of the few indicators that he hadn’t taken a wrong turn somewhere on his way to the Town Hall and ended up at the dentist’s. Or a bank, judging by all the safety measures. There was a security glass barrier you had to pass to reach the inner parts of the building.

He could count infinitive things he’d rather do, than sit around here feeling stupid. This was a waste of everybody’s time. Instead of being here to disprove any notion that he was what they were looking for, he could’ve been in bed, or cosy down in front of the television, or-

“Rotten?” a female voice he recognised from a phone call the other day roused him from his daydreaming.

He jerked his head up at the glass wall that had slid to the side and where the source of the voice was coming from.

Ms. Busybody was an older plump woman with hair an odd shade of blue in a coiffure on top of her head, making him do a double take. And that was only the beginning of the visage. She was more _colourful_ than he’d expect from a municipal administrator. She wore an assemble of a red and pink three-piece dress consisting of a frilly blouse under a smart jacket and a pencil skirt that hugged her form maybe a little too tight, pumps seemingly in the same strange shade as her hair and it was clear her enthusiasm for makeup exceeded his own. He realised he was gawking and stumbled out of his seat. “That’s, uh, that’ll be me. Thank you for having me.”

She must’ve mistaken his awestruck expression for appreciation, or hell forbid, _attraction_ , and her painted lips splayed in a wide smile, blue eyes crinkling that further deepened her crow’s feet. “Elisabeth Busybody.” Her grip was surprisingly firm. “We spoke over the phone earlier,” she added, stating the obvious. “I’m glad that you could make it.”

He nodded dumbly

“This way, please.” She spun around without further ado to lead them past the reception and the surly man occupying it, the heels of her shoes rapping against the floor as fast as her short legs could carry her.

He followed her like a forlorn dog down along a whirl of corridors, all in the same pale wallpaper until they reached a glassed-in room, some kind of meeting room? And sat down in the small chair across the white round table, facing Ms. Busybody.

Might as well get this farce over with.

Somehow, despite shoddy template application and his blatant lack of practical experience he had been called for an interview.

 

He didn’t know which one of them that would be the most disappointed after this.

 

“So…” the woman before him cast a look at the bundle of papers in front of her, “ _Robert_ , tell me, what made you apply for this position with us here at the Recreational- and Public Health Administration?”

‘ _The slave driver at the job agency forced me to apply_ ,’ was the response waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he restrained himself. “What can I say? I saw the ad,” a lie, his contact at the agency had seen it and shoved it in his face, “and working in youth recreation would be perfect, seeing as I have a lot to offer,” he hated kids, “since I have a higher education in pedagogy.” That last one was, unfortunately, true. He had applied for community college at the very last second and pedagogy had been the only course that still had a spot to spare to complement his main courses in English. He’d done it for the credits and the science behind the subject was interesting enough that he’d endured through it. His contact at the agency had seen it and made him apply for the position at the community youth centre. Robbie’s aversion to other people, let alone children, non-withstanding.

The rest of their interaction was him lying through his teeth when responding to her questions. Of how he loved helping people and could work in team but could also hold his own if need be. As well as some half truths about his hobbies. Reading comics counted as reading in general and he knew his pop culture thanks to the television. The usual spiel that every other place that had been sorry enough to take a second look at his CV had heard. It usually would be rejected at the first glance. There were… Blank spots and his merits were meagre at best. The last real job he had held had been in retail, stocking shelves, and that had been years ago! Most would question such a big gap of inactivity like that. College, or not.

 

The interview had to be winding down to its conclusion now, surely. So far, he had managed to stay out of any social pot holes, any swearing, and had his hands clasped in his lap to keep them from doing their impromptu dancing when he was nervous, or any other unsightly behaviour. But it was only a matter of time before he’d make an idiot out of himself. She had been looking very intently at him from time to time during their conversation. He’d told himself that he was making a bigger deal out of it, but he could swear that she was gauging something of his.

 

“Do you have any questions for us?” Busybody asked him.

What made them consider him, for starters? “Uhm, well, I’m curious about the location of the youth centre and what you do there, exactly?”

“Hmm, yes, the Town Hall is the operative building of the LazyTown youth centre, but I, for the most time, and the youth recreational leaders work on site at LazyTown. It’s located in the city centre, right across the municipal school district so that the children have a close route if they wish to visit our facilities after school hours and attend the events that we host.”

“LazyTown?”

“It started as an inside joke and it stuck enough that we named the centre LazyTown.” She chortled and continued, “it was originally a gimmick that ‘ _no one_ _’s lazy in LazyTown_ ’ and it became its official motto.”

Robbie forced down the knee jerk reaction to grimace in abhorrence. One of those physical active places then. “What’s it core activities?”

“Aside for organising movie nights, soccer games and other creative activities. We,” she tapped the table with a long acrylic nail, “working at the youth centre aim to keep children out of trouble and offer them a place where they can socialise and pursue their personal interests in a safe environment.”

“Yes, of course. I fully understand.”

“And we encourage and implement the values of diversity and equality.”

He made an affirmative noise. Keep kids away from the streets and don’t be an asshole.

She flipped through the bundle of papers. She took one last look at his CV on top of the rest of the sheets. “I see that you have a driver’s license, that’s good.” A license, but no working car, not that she had asked about that specifically. “There are some instances where our staff have to use our cars.” Her eyes lingered on the application, flicking back up at him. “Tell me, what did you do between the years from your last job up until now?”

Of course she had noted the huge gap in his CV. He gave her the full force of his most disarming smile. He could be charming, when he chose to make the effort. “I finished compulsory level and enrolled in community college.”

“Naturally, silly me, it’s says so right here and you did tell me… English and Pedagogical methodology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

Seeming pleased with his answer, she extracted three sheets of paper from the bundle she’d initially been flipping through and pushed them across the table towards him along with a pen. “I’ll need you to write down your contact information, and to sign these confidentiality agreements. One for us and one for you to keep.”

He clicked the pen and wrote down his address and digits, pushing it back to her and skimmed through the print of the disclosure. Who’d thought that just coming in for a chat was such hush hush?

Busybody noted the address he’d written down. “That’s quite the way outside of town. Is this address your current one?”

“Yes, ma’am. As well as other contact details.” He handed over her copy of the confidentiality agreement and she gratefully took it to put it in a folder with the rest of the papers.

Busybody hummed approvingly then looked up at him, squinting slightly and pursed her mouth. “I’m sorry, this might be a personal question, and I do not mean to be rude, but I noticed earlier…” She tilted her head and leaned a little closer to take a look at him. “Are you wearing mascara?”

“I… I have very pale eyelashes,” he said. He must’ve done it earlier on auto-pilot as he styled his hair, still groggy from having to drag himself out of bed before noon. There were people that forgot to put on mascara or skipping a step in their routine - _and he_ _’d somehow done the opposite!_ Robbie silently swore. The woman might spout about equal treatment and diversity, but at the end of the day, no employer would hire a grown man wearing makeup, especially not around kids.

To his surprise, she nodded and laughed. “Oh, yes, with your dark hair I fully understand. It can unbalance one’s complexion completely. As I always say; the eyebrows and eyelashes are the frame of your eyes.”

Robbie needed a mirror, asap! Had he per automatic done the whole beauty routine?! No wonder the guy at the front desk had given him the stink eye!

He laughed along with her, oh yes, nothing but a shared interest for looking their best here. They ran ads for concealer targeted towards men now, everything was just dandy in these modern times. His laugh took on a desperate edge and he quieted himself down with a supressed cough.

Another positive hum as she ceased her clucking, then, “if you were to be employed, when do you think you could start?”

“Whenever,” he blurted out before he’d accidentally choke on his spit.

 

That was a generally a promising question, right?

 

Were they really this desperate?

Was _he_ really this desperate?

Apparently.

 

However, his high hopes crashed in a fiery descent before they had even taken proper flight at her following words.

“We’ll need an excerpt from the police, before we proceed in the recruiting process, though.” Her smile was blithe. “As I’m sure you understand.”

 _Shit_. He tried not to deflate too obviously before her. “Yes, of course.”

So much for that.

 

After being shepherded back to the entrance sans surly receptionist there this time, having only listened with half an ear to the short woman chattering on about the facilities they were currently in, it would not matter anyway, seeing as he would never set foot there again. She shook his hand with the promise of contacting him in the near future, which rang hollow in his ears. The lady would take one look at his record and then laugh herself to tears. Then probably call him just to laugh at him over the phone. Or scream at him for daring to apply in the first place.

He stepped outside the building and took a deep breath of the chill January air, letting the pent-up stress release with his exhale before inspecting what time it was on his phone. Quarter past two. He would have usually just gotten out of bed around this time, yet it felt like it had been a long day enough. There was however a fair window before his bus would depart he concluded and ducked in inside a corner shop on his way to the bus stop and got himself two large chocolate bars. He’d really need something stronger after this travesty, like twenty to thirty percent stronger, but his economy dictated what he could and could not treat himself to. And treat himself was what he would do, regardless.

He only had one bar left when he got off at his stop after the half an hour-long journey out to his house. It was a hovel, but it was _his hovel_ … So far.

 

Another half an hour and the second bar was gone too.

 

He’d stayed in bed the following day with the occasional bathroom break and rummaging through the fridge, and he’d probably do so the day after that -when his phone woke him up around eleven.

Blindly, he reached for his phone on the chair in lieu of nightstand by the bed and squinted in confusion at the number on the display.

“Hello?” His voice was like gravel.

“Mr. Rotten? I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

Robbie recognised Busybody’s voice on the other end. He jolted upright to sit on the edge and cleared his throat. “No! No, not at all! I’ve just haven’t used my voice that much today.”

If she caught on to the blatant excuse she didn’t let it on as she chirped, “I wanted to tell you that we received your record and, I will be frank, there are some questions that have arisen.” Robbie swallowed thickly, sitting on the edge of his bed, bracing himself for the verdict. “However, after consulting with my peers, _we_ have decided that we’d like to have you with us on a trial work period to see how you fit in our organisation. That is, if you are still interested in the position.”

“I… Thank you. Yes, yes I am.”

“Good! Can you start on Monday?”

Somewhat shell-shocked, he nodded, then remembered that she couldn’t see him and said, “absolutely, yes.”

She gave him the address to the centre and what time he would start. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

“Me too.”

He was staring at the phone in his hand long after they had said their farewells.

“Yes!” he cried out and flung himself down on top of the bed to break out into a fit of giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I got my degree in Public Admin, trust me, this wasn't how I was planning to use it and my personal experience of bureaucracy. The biggest no no ever would be to employ someone with a criminal record to work with children, but I'll come back to that later.


	2. Meet the crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day at LazyTown. Robbie meets the co-workers, for better or worse - It's a mixed bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robbie is about as good with attractive people as a cross-eyed gnu.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror he’d had mounted onto the wall high enough so that he didn’t need to crouch, taking in his long tired pale face and seemingly colourless eyes, and weighting in his options. Busybody had been open minded enough, but he doubted the rest of the establishment was ready for the full _Robbie_ _Rotten_   _Experience_. At the same time, did his now new boss expect him to keep up the same standard of selfcare? Or, would he prove that he was the stereotypical kind of guy that only made an effort for the interview and then would turn up at the job looking like a mess now that the deal was done?

He was doing his own head in over this.

Decision made, he dabbed concealer in the inner corner of and under his eyes to look less exhausted and a clear lip balm for his chapped lips.

 

LazyTown Youth Centre was a two-story square brick building the colour of dirt and a flat roof that promised to cave in if there would be too much snow, or severe water damage if the drainage couldn’t keep up to demand. Your typical run of the mill municipal building from the late twentieth century and until now in other words, with the exception of the sign on the main entrance’s glass doors where it read ‘ _LAZYTOWN_ ’ stacked on top of each other in bold orange letters and some type of swirls behind that made him think of tide pod commercials. Busybody had been correct when she’d said that it was across from the school district, only separated by a soccer field they shared with the school. The beauty of municipal property he supposed. As of now, the field was covered in snow with narrow trodden paths by pupils making their way to and from school and the youth centre. A group of children were making their way towards the centre this very moment, thin voices chattering amongst themselves and not seeming to care about the tall man standing outside and merely walked round and past him. It was enough to propel him back into motion and towards the building as well.

Busybody was there to greet him by the entrance as the gaggle of children went past her inside. She was just as eccentric as he remembered her to be and disproved that it had been nothing but a fever dream. “Robert, I hope there weren’t any issues finding your way here?”

“None at all,” he replied with a smile and shook her outstretched hand again. He had discovered, to his relief, that he didn’t have to make any changes in his commute, since his bus did in fact stop by the school on its route to the central bus station.

“That’s good to hear,” she said when he explained his discovery to her.

 

There was a fair deal of children and teenagers inside, surprisingly not as rowdy as he had feared, but the day was still young. Right inside by the windows was a row of booths and close by that a kiosk. ‘ _Ring the bell if unmanned_ ’ a sign said. Robbie arched a brow. Not worrying about someone making away with the goods were they. Though, the only thing that seemed within reach to nab was a bowl with fruits. Never mind then.

“As you see we have many activities to offer our visitors,” she said as she led him up a flight of stairs and onto a walkway with on one side a pair of glass doors and on the other side a railing where you could overlook an indoor court. “Here for example, people can play all sorts of games until spring when we use the field outside, we also use this area as a discotheque.

A glorified school disco. Robbie was getting anxiety just by the thought alone. Vague memories of middle school discos in the gymnasium where the kids of separate gender would flock at each side of the room and awkwardly gaze over to the other side, not knowing what to do or if to ask the girl of their fancy for a dance. Or, as in Robbie’s case, just stand and stare at his spit shine shoes in humiliation.

“The room in there is the office of our youth leaders,” she said passing by the first door and walked further ahead to the second glass door. “And this is my office.” She held the door open for him to pass through. “Have a seat. There are a few things we need to go over.”

Yeah, that didn’t sound ominous at all. On one side of the office was a cabinet containing books, folders, a picture of a tan portly man her age and a coat stand. The opposite side was bare save for a standard door that led into the staff’s office. He did as told and she in turn seated herself on the other side of her desk where another framed picture and a flat screen computer was. It made so that she had her back to the window, which was not that practical when viewing the computer screen, but it gave her the full view of the doorway and the other side of the glass instead.

With a flick she unfolded a pair of glasses and put them on top of her button nose.

The glasses transformed her, and he felt as if he was at the headmistress office suddenly.

“I already got your contract for your trial work period ready. You’re not required to sign another disclosure, as the one you signed at the Town Hall covers this.” Her tone was curt, straight on point.

He took the contract. The last date of the trial period was until the last of this month. Then they could decide if they’d keep him. Unless they decided that they didn’t like the look of him or his work ethics. Robbie knew that his work ethics were fine. It was his private and social life that was a mess.

He signed it before she changed her mind.

“What now?” he asked as he signed his own copy and stowed it away inside his pocket.

“We’ll mostly show you around the place, introduce you to the IT system and the cash register. Though,” she folded her hands on top of the desk, “I believe the IT system will have to wait until the request has been fully processed and…”

“And whether if I’m a threat,” he stated. There was no use beating around the bush. He knew, that she knew, that he knew.

She sighed and looked up at him over the rim of her glasses, looking old and seasoned. “Robert, your history is somewhat worrying, you must understand.”

“I ran with a bad crowd when I was young.” The short and honest truth.

She levelled him with a scrutinising stare. “Is there anything else we should know about you?”

Robbie mulled it over. He’d taken moonlighting jobs as a young adult just to get by and because no one wanted to legally hire him. “I cut those kinds of people out of my life long ago.” He’d been clean for years, had gotten himself an education. Hell, even property, though that was arguably one of the lesser sound decisions, seeing as the upkeep had eaten what little money he’d had left. But in the end, he had done all the adulty stuff he was supposed to. And _still_ it, his early transgressions, would eclipse his life and how people viewed him. “That’s what relevant.”

“I agree,” Busybody said. “Oh well,” she smiled, “if it’s all in the past.” She took off the glasses and stood up to walk round the desk to his side. “Now, before we start, there is one other thing.”

“What’s that?” He stood up as well.

The smile grew. “Call me Bessie. Never Lizzie, or god forbid, Liz.”

“Then please, call me Robbie,” he replied, relief washing over him.

“Noted,” she chirped and opened the door to lead him outside and down the stairs again. “Let’s see where Penny is.” She brought them towards the kiosk they had passed on their way in. “She will show you the ropes these first days,” she explained. Robbie made an affirmative noise of understanding.

 

Penny turned out to be a young blonde woman in a checked shirt and red bib overalls manning the kiosk. Her head whipped to their side when Busybody called her over. With a skip over the wicket leading to the inside of the kiosk he saw that the overalls were rolled up to show thin calves and dark sneakers and further up close that her hair had that baby fine quality falling over her forehead regardless the effort to comb it away from her face and pulled into buns, she had dark eyes looking him over in curiosity and a snub nose.

Despite her thin frame she had a good grip on his hand when they shook. Robbie might as well get used to it. “Penny Pestella.” Her smile was wide as she introduced herself and there was something childlike over her. It could be the overalls and the fact that she had put her hair in two buns with blue hair bands on each side of her small face that gave off that vibe.

“Robert Rotten, but,” he chanced a glance over at Busybody, “you might as well call me Robbie.” The older woman seemed pleased.

“I’ve just informed Robbie that you’ll help him these first days.”

“No problem. Maybe we should start with the locker rooms and then move on from there?” The question was directed more to the older woman by his side than him.

It wasn’t as if he had any say in the matter anyway.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Busybody said, offering Robbie a last smile and disappeared upstairs again.

 

As promised, Penny showed him where the locker rooms were. “There’s a gender neutral changing room. However, the staff’s locker rooms per se are gender divided because of the showers.” She showed the smaller changing room. A refurbished handicap toilet he suspected. “This is the men’s.” She rapped her knuckles on the door and opened a bit and called in to check if it was occupied. With no answer coming from inside she flung the door open for Robbie to join her. “The lockers to the far right are unoccupied so you can pick anyone and tell Bessie the number of it and she’ll jot it down.”

 

Robbie didn’t have a padlock, but decided to leave the jacket behind while keeping his wallet and phone on his person. “So, that’s that. Let’s show you the main area and introduce you to the other people around here,” his guide stated.

LazyTown had a lot of activities going on and to offer it would appear. Tech lab for homework, music room, pool tables, arcade games, a corner with a dance game and a honest-to-god home cinema room. Robbie wished there had been a place around like this in the town he grew up in, then things might have been different, as of now, he was just green with envy. A group of teenagers seated around a table looked up at them as they passed then back to the game of cards they were immersed in. Some things never changed.

His introspections were derailed however. “Over here’s the visitor’s restrooms and- There he is!” Penny exclaimed, cutting off whatever she was about to tell him, “just as I suspected,” and tugged on Robbie to follow her back to the court.

A game of basketball was taking place with a group of middle schoolers in the indoor court now. But that wasn’t important, because Robbie nearly had a heart attack.

By the side of the game, and where to he was being dragged, he spotted a man with his back turned to them crouching by a chubby child, much smaller than the rest of the children playing, their round freckled face red and upset. But that was also unimportant, considering that Robbie’s full tender attention was on the man.

He had medium length wavy hair in a tawny colour that Robbie would bet good money on turned blond during the summer when exposed to the sun. The white t-shirt was too tight over his shoulders and fit snugly over the rest of his torso. And below where the shirt ended was a perfect round ass, no thanks to the chosen position, clad in blue jeans. Penny let go and frolicked, for lack of better words, over to the owner of the ass, to say something to him. The tight t-shirt displayed the play of the muscles of his back as he straightened up to his full height which appeared at first deduction, and then later proven true, of slightly below average height. If anyone in the vicinity was unfortunate enough to be able to read Robbie’s mind, they’d know that he was going to hell in a handbasket.

And then the man had the audacity to turn his way!

His first thought was, ‘ _that_ _’s a stupid moustache_ ’ and then quickly followed by, ‘ _oh no, he_ _’s cute!_ ’

True to his first observation, the man’s face was cursed with a thin English moustache, cultivated and styled with wax no doubt in a straight line on each end. If curved, then even Salvador Dali himself would have been envious. As for the second observation; the face beneath the moustache was faire and diamond shaped, with rosy cheeks that bounced up when he smiled at whatever Penny said to him and laugh lines around his eyes.

 

Thirst advanced into infatuation.

Yes, despite the moustache.

 

Someone else took on the job of consoling the sullen child and the man advanced on Robbie, Penny tagging along with him to Robbie’s mix of chagrin and relief.

“So _you_ _’re_ Robert,” he said.

The lilt in his voice told that the man had expected something entirely else, whatever that was. There was something else in the voice, an accent he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t local, well, maybe not born local anyway.

He wiped his hand on his jeans and extended it towards Robbie. “I’m Alex Magnússon.”

The way he said his name confirmed his suspicion, definitely not local. “Robbie,” he blabbed, “uh, call me Robbie.”

“Alright, Robbie.” Alex’s grin was all teeth and his eyes glinted in deep blue.

He took the extended hand in greeting and regretted it.

 

Busybody had a firm grip.

Penny had a firm grip.

Alex’s grip was crushing!

 

He bit back a wince. Let alone his first instinct to cry out in pain and jerk it back towards his chest.

Goddamn caveman domineering antics. Any respect the man had been trying to instil with that, hit the other side of the bell curve in Robbie’s head. Yes, yes, big strong man, crush other man’s hand to establish dominance.

Asshole.

 

Well, that was about as effective as any cold shower to get rid of the fleeting infatuation.

 

Alex played oblivious and turned to Penny. “I hope you’re not too harsh on his first day.”

Oh, a haha ha. Funny, really funny.

One may argue that it was petty of him to judge someone and hold a grudge over their handshake. But that had _fucking hurt_. He’d caved in and started to cradle his hand in the other and rub it to elevate the pain.

Penny gave him big doe eyes and joked, “me? Never.”

“Have you showed him the office and the kiosk yet?”

“You’re just happy that you won’t have to stand in the kiosk any more than the bare necessary.” She looked over at Robbie and said sotto voce, “if he had it his way, there wouldn’t be a kiosk at all.”

“I don’t like that we encourage the consumption of sweets and soda,” Alex stated tiredly.

That was dandy with Robbie, he was starting to figure that the other man was a health nut job. It would explain the muscles.

A shrill wail carried from the court. Chubby was not a happy camper it would seem.

“Sorry, work calls,” he excused himself. Something passed behind his eyes as he looked at Robbie again. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

 

Penny shook her head and sighed as they departed. “Ziggy is actually too young to be here.” Robbie looked over his shoulder. That had to be Chubby And Upset, now getting the genuine tender care of the moustached youth leader. “We have a minimum age of ten years, but we’ve changed it to age cohort so not to separate classmates from each other. And a similar policy for maximum age of twenty, so that if you turn during the spring semester you can still visit during the full year.” Robbie could understand the logic behind that. It couldn’t be fun if you were younger than the rest of your class and they got to do fun stuff without you. Or the other way around if you were born early.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“Ziggy is… He’s born in December and during these formative years you can really tell the difference between him and the kids of the same age cohort that are born earlier. And he’s a sensitive kid as it is.”

Robbie hummed in understanding. He too had been _a sensitive kid_ as they put it.

He decided to change the subject. “Bessie never told me, what are the working hours here normally?” He’d been asked to come in at three, but she had told him that the staff’s regular hours varied.

“The centre is open to the public from three to eight. It happens once or twice a month that it’s open past ten if there is a movie night, or a disco. But, we start our work at one thirty, to tidy up the place, hold staff meetings, plan for the day and so on,” she said and led them further in until they encountered a door leading to the outside. “This is the staff entrance.” She held it open for him to pass through and kept it ajar by leaning against it. He recognised their location as to the left wall of the building’s main entrance. He spun around back to Penny who was pointing to the right of the door at a card reader similar to those he’d seen inside. “You’ll get a keycard with your own personal code tomorrow to use when passing through the building. She twisted and pointed to the left. Past a cycle rack containing one lone blue bike, was a steel door with a similar card reader by it. “Behind that is the garbage room. We _try_ to recycle correctly… But most stuff ends up in the mixed bin.” Her grin was sharp as she said, “it drives Sportacus up the wall.”

“Who’s Sportacus?” What type of name was _that_? The byname for the trashman?

“Oh right, it’s what the regulars of kids and teens call Alex.”

Everyone here seemed to operate on some type of nickname. Bessie, Robbie, _Sportacus_.

“Does everyone have a nickname? What’s Penny short for?”

The girl wrinkled her nose and said, “not a nickname.”

“My condolences.”

“Eh, my parents said that the choice was between this and Polly. I’d say I lucked out.”

“I’d offer you a cracker, if I’d had any.”

“Polly will accept cold hard cash as substitute,” she said without missing a beat, looking him straight in the eye.

He snorted at the reply.

“Are you alright? You keep rubbing your hand.”

“Sportacus got an impressive grip. Makes one wonder what he’s been practicing on.”

She guffawed and wheezed at the crude implication.

This one, this one he was starting to like. _Sportacus_ may be a lost cause, but the girl was alright by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with Magnússon because, well, Sportacus is Maggi's creation after all. This chapter's character count kept running away so I had to cut it in half. On the plus side the next chapter is almost done... Along with Penny's more money oriented tendencies.


	3. A place for Robbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the ugly blue cap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly to tie in and finish the previous one

Their ‘ _office_ _’_ turned out to be a breakroom that had been deemed big enough to cram in two desks in the far end of the room by the windows to house the same type of business desktops as in Busybody’s real office, unless that too just turned out to be a refurbished room, like an utility closet. To the right of the entrance was a kitchenette with a sink full of unwashed coffee mugs to greet you and smack dab in the room, like the Knights of the Round Table, albeit in a simpler and more caffeine addled IKEA stage production, they had their own table where they held staff meetings, a lone ring from a coffee mug defiling the once pristine white surface. In fact, pretty much everything in there was white. Trying to keep this place clean must be a riot, but comparing to the bright colours and noise pollution downstairs, maybe having a quiet achromatic haven wasn’t so bad.

“This is where the magic happens?”

Penny had been momentarily distracted from her one-man tour to straighten up the whiteboard next to Busybody’s shortcut that’d come askew. She looked back to him with an apologetic smile. “Part of it. Scheduling and planning is all done before we open up the lower floor, most of the time. After that, well, it’s for refuelling.”

Robbie side eyed the coffee mugs. “Uhu.” He wouldn’t mind having a sit down and something in his system to perk him up.

Alas, that was not to happen it appeared. Penny motioned towards the computers. “We use the intranet and a shared email, and private one, you’ll get your own log in along with the keycard.”

He didn’t correct her that it might take longer than that for him to get access. Thinking of it, that might include his keycard. Oh joy.

In the end he didn’t have to, as the option was taken from him. “Introducing Robbie to the system will have to wait 'til a later date, Penny,” Busybody’s voice drifted from the front of the office. The plump woman’s head peeked out from her side door, followed by the rest of her entering the room, holding an empty coffee mug in one hand. She saw the pile in the sink and made an irritated noise.  

There was a ‘ _din-ding_ ’ drifting over the noise from downstairs.

“Might be a good opportunity to let Robbie have a go at the kiosk instead as any,” Bessie suggested, and Penny took Robbie’s arm to drag him back downstairs before he could object.

Penny shoved him into the kiosk and he was starting to get tired of all the pushing and pulling. “It’s not rocket science, you’ll do fine.”

 

Sure, he’d been, once upon a time, in retail, but that had been in the storage and warehouse area rather than the cash register, so he tried to take the information Penny was spitting to the best of his already overloaded mind’s capacity. “-And don’t sell energy drinks to anyone under sixteen, always ask for ID if they want to purchase a can. Even if they have a beard scruff, _especially_ if they have a beard scruff.” He hummed and kept nodding.

 

“So, where did you work before this?” Penny asked when it had quieted down, twirling on the only chair behind the counter. It had become dark outside since long ago and Robbie was surprised when he’d looked at the time to see it was way past six already and he’d been here for over three hours going on four.

“This is the first gig I’ve had in years. I didn’t have the opportunity while I studied.” A lot of lost years to cram in and then trying to keep the goddamn hovel from falling in on itself.

“But you’ve interned at a place like this before, right? A pre-school? Kindergarten?” He shook his head at every guess. “ _Summer camp_?” her voice took on a desperate edge. “ _Any experience in welfare_?”

Well, that depended if an old sentence to juvenile community service counted. He shook his head yet again instead, to err on the side of caution.

“Jesus,” she said under her breath, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“I have an education in Pedagogical methodology, so hey, I have the theoretical part of the job down,” he said, though the point of his argument sounded weak to himself.

She pursed her lips, before she asked him, “and what’s that in your opinion?”

Guessing she meant about methodology, he said, “communication. Though I’ve been told it’s the more liberal and modern take on it.”

“Yeah.” Confirming his hunch. “I’m a primary teacher and there was a whole lot of Plato and the dangers of instinct and instead moulding children into the fit of social norms.” The tone she used told all he needed to know of her opinion on that.

Robbie hummed, that had been covered in the introductions.

Truth be told, the course had been more of an eye opener about himself. And where it had gone wrong when his own needs had not been met.

“I already had a couple of places where I worked part time. I worked here during the summer and they asked me to stay after I graduated two years ago. I’m glad they did, this is the best place I’ve been to. Even if it’s only me and Sporty over there… And you now.”

“What about all the other people here?” He’d been introduced to a whole lot of people in passing it felt like. A lot of names he’d already forgotten the moment after he’d heard them. This place was massive for only two people and one lone administrative supervisor to run.

“Internal service and volunteers. Parents and older relatives helping out to keep an eye on the kids. And some young adults that wants to get a foot in for when the town starts recruiting personnel for the summer to help out during summer activities and so that we can take a few weeks off for vacation. They’re helpful out on the floor, but the volunteers aren’t allowed near the IT system and the kiosk’s checkout, or the planning and admin management. As I said, the place is great, but having a third will make a lot of difference.” She looked a little guilty, that childlike side of hers peeking through again as she realised that she might be scaring off the new employee. Robbie wondered how old she was, if she’d come straight out of college and here. “As much as I like the job, not to speak of the money I make, running up those stairs whenever Bessie needs something looked at, or when _this_ bell rings,” she tapped it, a smaller ‘ _ting_ _’_ sounding from it, “it’s a lot of running from one end of the building to the other for two people.”

Robbie’s employment, despite his lack of practical experience in welfare, started to make much more sense now. They needed someone to do the boring time-consuming part of the job. The administrative part and cash register was stealing time from Penny and Alex, away from their actual job as recreational workers.

…Maybe there was a place for Robbie in this establishment after all, where he could be not too much in the way and not having to run around entertaining a bunch of kids. Robbie could be that person, sure.

Well, there was one person here that didn’t seem to mind running around the place endlessly. Alex was approaching. He hadn’t seen him since their introduction and appendage bruising, the back of his hand and knuckles were still sore, but he had certainly _heard_ him hollering about from the direction of the indoor court at odd intervals.

His physical appearance hadn’t been a hallucination, the man was easy on the eyes.

Shame about the rest.

And now this!

Since last, he’d had the poor taste of donning a slouchy crocheted cap in blue over his head, a stray curl peeking out here and there by his forehead. The cap worked with the moustache a bit too well. Send him off with a pair of ugly fake glasses and he’d be all set to sell skateboards in the trendy part of town. The guy was too much of a no-nonsense gym rat to pull it off though. Maybe protein powder? He was sure there was a niche pretentious enough for that. Vitamin enhanced mineral water?

There were racing stripes of white and black worked into the crochet. Why wasn’t he surprised... “Everything alright?” he caught Alex asking him.

He realised that he’d gotten lost in thought contemplating the heinous hat. “Oh? Yes, I think so, anyway?” he said, tearing his eyes away from the monstrosity, lowering them to meet eyes strikingly the same shade as above.

“These hours are slow on Mondays. I spoke with Bessie, you can go home for today. Tomorrow, you’re getting the full experience.”

Oh. Alright then. He couldn’t complain over the prospect of going home early. Though, he’d seen the salary agreement, going one hour early meant one hour less in the pocket later.

And he really needed that money. He put on a brave face, not letting his disappointment show. “Alright.”

“You might want to dress in something more _functional_ ,” Alex added.

Robbie looked down on his button up shirt. That might be true, that he’d need something more durable if he was to work there, but he hadn’t needed to put it _like that_. “Okay.”

 

Then Penny did something that made Robbie almost shriek.

 

“Here,” she shoved a fruit from the bowl in his face and into his hand, “on the house.”

He shoved it back into her hand on pure instinct. “Thanks, but no thanks!” Wiping his hands on his pants. Not that it would make a difference, it was more a psychological thing.

She wavered at his visceral reaction, Alex on the opposite side of the counter had gone stock-still as well and eyed him with caution. The shock lasted for a handful of seconds before Penny recovered, snickered and held up the apple for him again. “It’s just an apple.”

He took a deliberate step away from her and that  _thing_ assaulted at him, feeling trapped as she was between him and the wicket, and he didn’t like Alex's expression. “I got food allergies.”

“What kinds?” Alex asked him, a furrow in his forehead under the crocheted cap and he'd crossed his arms, making the biceps pop.

“Fresh fruits and vegetables.”

The girl finally stopped waving the fruit around and put it down in the bowl with the rest. “You’re making that up, aren’t you?” She sounded sceptic.

“Nope, I’m cross allergic.” Robbie had grown up with a legitimate excuse not to eat his veggies. “Pollen, citrus, and anything red.”

“That sucks.”

Relaxing, now that she’d put the damn thing down, he merely shrugged at the condolances. He could have tomato sauce, but not ketchup due to differences in preparations. But hey, as long as he could occasionally have a pizza without having to worry too much if he would double over in abdominal cramping, along with rashes, then he wouldn’t complain.

Alex looked at him as if Robbie had just told them he’d lost a beloved one. “That’s very good to know. We’ll keep it in mind from now on. We don’t sell, and encourage our visitors not to eat, citrus fruits and nuts in here,” he said.

“I don’t particularly care what others eat, but I wouldn’t exactly french someone who’d just gobbled down a box of strawberries.”

Maybe he should have worded that differently. Alex’s mouth formed a thin pained line, and Robbie swore that the ends of the moustache twitched downwards. Penny on the other hand seemed to find the paradigm hilarious, judging by how she wheezed. Eh, there were worse examples.

“Uh, I’ll be here tomorrow at one thirty?”

“Yep,” Penny sat down to twirl the chair around again, “bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

 

He felt eyes on him as he, not as much ran, but walked with intent to get his jacket and get out, very very fast.

 

The next day wasn’t off to a good start, in his opinion.

Bright eyed, yes, he wasn’t so sure about the tail however. He cursed and shifted his weight from foot to foot to keep warm. There’d been a cold spell coming all of a sudden. Robbie had woken up with a painfully cold nose and an achy neck. The electricity bill for his heating elements would kill him, or he’d use the paper from the invoices as tinder to keep himself warm until spring.  

Robbie would gladly exchange the bruise he'd gotten on his hand for a bushy tail, he could really need one to wrap around himself right now. 

He’d arrived at the staff entrance, only to realise that no one else had arrived yet, and without a keycard he was stuck outside, just him and the empty cycle rack.

He heard the sound of snow crunching and a yell of greeting coming from behind him. He turned around to find Alex in a royal blue jacket that looked much warmer than his own dark one and a bicycle helmet wedged over the crochet cap.

And lookie there. The mystery of who in the world would still bike in the middle of the winter had been brought to light.

“Have you been waiting long?” Alex asked, securing his bike to the rack and taking off the helmet. Cheeks and tip of nose red from the cold.

Was that pity he detected? “Long enough that I can’t feel my feet and my face and my-”

“Alright, got it. Bessie told me it might be some time until you get your own keycard. I’m sorry you had to wait.” He sure didn’t look it. “The gears are a little fickle this time around.”

Yes, a tragedy, truly. “That’s what happens to derailleurs and brakes when it’s cold,” he deadpanned.

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitched into an almost smile. “Yes,” he stated and slid off a grey backpack from his shoulders to fish out his own keycard from a compartment.

They didn’t say much else to each other on the route to the locker room, walking in awkward silence as his extremities got reacquainted with the concept of warmth.

Robbie had gotten a padlock for his locker of choice, number o’ one, in which he stuffed his outer wear. Adjusting the purple turtleneck he’d worn beneath, that had to satiate Mr. Muscles to his left, he absently noted that Alex went for the middle row to take off his jacket, revealing another too tight t-shirt, leaving a significant gap of empty lockers between them. There was a whole wall of lockers, but he estimated that only one fourth of them had a padlock. The janitors set selection he guessed. And the other ones that had been taken yesterday belonging to volunteers probably, since the only two men that used the locker room he knew of was Alex and him. He checked his makeup in the lone mirror of the room, having felt a little braver that day, figuring he could risk a neutral look. It was on the tip of his tongue to try and initiate some kind of question of the current status with the lockers when he saw in the mirror that Alex was bending over, removing his pants to reveal synthetic tights. Robbie’s mouth went dry. And then to remove them as well, showing the beginning of briefs -and Robbie shut down, mechanically quipping that he’d see him outside and walked out before he made a fool of himself or Alex saw the hungry look on his face he’d caught in the mirror.

He didn’t need the other man to know he’d been checking him out.

 

He was relieved to see that Busybody had arrived sometime shortly after Alex had let him in, to greet Robbie upstairs and help him with the coffee machine. Real beans and not that awful powder, she had preened. As long as there was milk and sugar to add, then Robbie didn’t care that much.

He was fumbling with explaining his predicament of entering the building without sounding too demanding or brash when Alex came in. “You forgot your keys.” True to the statement, the keys to his padlock landed on the table before him with a clink. He’d been in such a hurry to run out of the locker room that he’d prompt forgot to lock his own compartment. He mumbled his thanks.

Busybody was, thankfully, oblivious to the earth shattering screech echoing in Robbie’s head and the wish for the world to swallow him whole, as she pondered the solution of helping him enter his workplace. “I suppose we can make sure that someone is here already waiting for you when you arrive, or you can come in a little later.”

He kept his gaze intently on Busybody and not anywhere near Alex who was preparing his own cuppa. “I’m sort of dependent on the bus schedule. I either arrive here quarter past one, or at two.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I can come in earlier, if you want,” Alex offered, taking a seat. “Or, I can ask Penny to do it.”

“Ask me what?” Penny popped in as if on demand.

 

They never came to a sound solution. Whoever made it there first would let Robbie in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn New Public Management


	4. Former star badges for misspellings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do we need to bring out the get along shirt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apply as much I can in one go and this is what happens. :/

Over the course of his first week he had learnt a thing or two about his colleagues.

Busybody was a bit of a gossip about anything that wasn’t under secrecy and she was in a relationship with Mr. Meanswell, the actual and honest mayor of the town! No wonder that the place seemed to be doing so well regardless its shortage in staff, not when she had the head of the town council wrapped around her finger. Though, most days she’d come in with loud grievances of the latest _‘inventiveness_ _’_ dear Milford had come up with. When he’d asked her if they lived together, she had outright laughed. “Dear, we have a wonderful arrangement, and if he and I were to live together, there would be _an incident_. Besides, he already has his hands full with his niece living with him. I do not wish to impose.” She had shown him the picture on her desk. Milford was the older gentleman he’d seen in the previous framed picture in her office. The niece was a colourful middle schooler that seemed to share aunt Bessie’s taste in eccentric hair dye and bright colours, if albeit in a more selective palette. The child was pink from literal head to toe!

Penny, where should he even start… Her name was befitting of her. She was good with kids, dedicated to her work, and he’d discovered that the wheezing was her actual laugh. But, she wasn’t that good with her private household economy. He’d seen her ‘ _accidentally_ ’ purchase a pair of expensive shoes online on her phone during her break. If it wasn’t for her yuppie boyfriend, and Busybody having forced her to set up a savings account for a portion of her salary to go, then he didn’t know what her high lifestyle would lead to. And she was twenty-four. So, not as young as he had initially feared.

Alex, he didn’t know that much about. Changing in the locker room was easier now that Robbie knew what to expect and to keep his wandering gaze to himself. The man didn’t speak much, unless he was working with the kids, then he was loud and prattled on nonsense, but he hadn’t said or mentioned anything about Robbie’s appearance, not to his face anyway. Busybody had told him that the other man was from Reykjavik and Penny had let it slip that he’d been working at LazyTown for the past five years, as far as she knew. And yes, his hair did turn blond during the summer. Along with his eyebrows, which she found hilarious.

 

What Robbie did discover first-hand about the Icelander; was that he must’ve gotten his driver’s license from the bottom of a cereal box. Because he drove like a mad man!

 

“Your request for personal login has been processed, Robbie, you should have your own access now,” Busybody had announced the next Monday, three days until his trial period was over. It was about time too. He’d been sitting alongside them when they worked on their computers for ages it felt like. “But, the HR department need a signature and photo of you for your keycard. It’s on the other side of town,” she said, “Alex can drive you there to show you where it is.”

And off they’d been. Though, Alex had looked oddly excited.

He shortly learnt why.

Robbie swore he was getting flashbacks from when he’d been seventeen and crammed into the backseat of a shitty old Skoda as they’d driven from the police and into a ditch, out of the ditch, over the traffic island and into oncoming traffic before they’d come to a crashing halt caught in the side railing.

With Alex’s driving he found himself holding onto the grab handle and full bodily bracing himself in a similar fashion when he drove into the roundabouts, fully expecting Alex to drive straight through.

“The speed limit signs mean that you’re supposed to slow down from when you see them and already adjusted to them when you pass. _Not when you_ _’ve already passed them!_ ” he griped as he practically fell out of the car and onto the parking lot. The fact that it was winter conditions wasn't helping his nerves.

“Are you okay?”

Of all the- “I’m driving on the way back!”

He’d looked frazzled when they’d taken his photo and it had come out looking more like a mugshot than his actual mugshot.

Unflattering card in hand, he found Alex waiting for him outside, leaning with his back against their black hatchback, soaking in the winter sun and his jacket open, face unguarded and a light breeze through his wavy hair. The image was only ruined by the town’s crest and the words _Recreational- and Public Health_ written on the side of the car. If the town was planning for some visual recruitment ads in the future, Robbie might have some suggestions.

“You got your keycard?” Alex opened his eyes and smiled.

Robbie swallowed thickly. “Y, yes.”

“Great.”

“Oh no, no,” Robbie protested when he saw that he was about to enter the driver’s side again. “I’m driving us back, remember?”

“You don’t like my driving?” He said it with humour, but Robbie wasn’t having any of that.

“I’ve been in one or two car accidents. Call me cautious.”

His face blanched. He looked like he was on the verge of saying something, mouth opening then closing, his features becoming drawn until he eventually said, “I didn’t know.”

There was a great deal he didn’t know and in which way he preferred it to stay.

To Alex’s credit, he didn’t protest or inquire further and instead switched to the passenger side.

Robbie didn’t know what came over him. He guessed he felt that he needed to explain himself without giving too much away. “I don’t have PTSD from it, if that’s what you’re worrying about. You drive like a maniac and it’s stressing me out though.”

“Oh, okay,” the other said. After a while he asked, “hey, can I see your keycard?”

He grunted and handed it over. His lips tugged into a smile when he burst out laughing next to him.

“You look like a hardened criminal!”

More like emotionally oversensitive ex-offender, but sure, why not?

 

On Tuesday Alex gave him three heart attacks in executive order before it had even struck two thirty.

Giddy over having his own keycard he’d waltzed into their breakroom slash office to find that Alex had already arrived and was writing something on one of the computers.

Weird moustache, check. Ugly cap, check. Black rimmed spectacles, ch- Hold the damn phone!?

Robbie had been right, he looked like a musclebound hipster!

“I look like a what?”

He’d said that out loud hadn’t he? “ _You need glasses?!_ ” he cried in lieu of explanation or greeting. Had he been wearing contacts this whole time? No, he would’ve noticed that… Wait. Had he been driving them around town _without glasses_ yesterday?!

Alex gave him his own brand of long suffering sigh and eyeroll, it was quite impressive how far back he could roll his eyes. He took them off to hold them in his hands and folded them. “Prescribed computer glasses,” he explained.

“Oh, so, huh, that’s a thing?” Would he need them, too, somewhere down the line?

“That, and my age is catching up to me.”

Ah, reading glasses, but then… “Wait, how old are you?” Robbie figured that he was older than him, but not by how much.

“I’m forty.”

That revelation left him gaping like an idiot in the middle of the room for the second time within a span of one measly minute.

The man looked _fine_ for his age.

“You’re shitting me?!”

“Language,” Alex cautioned him.

He ignored the reprimand. They were still closed _and_ upstairs, the kid free zone where you could swear up a storm if you so felt inclined. Which Robbie felt _very inclined to_. He was turning thirty that summer. How was this possible?! “You… You look good for your age. _Really good_.” ‘ _Christ, Robbie, reel it in a_ _little_ ’.

“Uhm, thanks.” Alex quickly ducked his head behind the screen again. Which left Robbie with ample time to mentally slap himself while he poured himself a cup of fifty-fifty coffee and milk and half the packet of sugar. Don’t. Not with the macho guy.

Penny came in wearing her new shoes to distract him from his own head.

They were nice shoes, but he choked on his drink when she announced that she also had gotten a long list of other trinkets she’d bought earlier this very day.

Robbie could only dream of going on such heedless impromptu shopping sprees.

Alex looked disappointed in her. It almost got to her. Almost.

Great, now he needed to distract himself from the green eyed monster within and sat down in front of the vacant computer to look through his private work mail and email the plans for the next upcoming event in February.

“Could you check if I chose the right group of recipients?” he asked the other, momentarily swallowing down his pride and wish to be independent. “I want to be sure I don’t accidentally spam the whole department for public health for a, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, _Saint Valentines movie marathon_. Ugh, I think I need to wash my mouth with soap.”

“Sure.” Alex grinned and came over to his side.

He leaned in close over him to read the recipient group Robbie had selected. That was unnecessary and despite leaning out of the way the closeness of the other invaded his senses.

“No, it all checks out,” he said, bringing him back from his moment of guilty self-indulgence. “You got the right distribution group.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He was about to hit send when Alex’s hand suddenly took hold of his wrist before he could press the button and moved him away from the mouse. “Woah, wait, hold on a second.” He leaned further over him, invading his space on an intimate level to read the screen. A faint mumble in his ear as Alex read the message under his breath. He took over and hit the spellcheck command for the email.

 

That was a lot of red.

 

God-fucking-damnit! He thought he’d been so careful, rereading and editing the message over and over again.

The man over him laughed softly. “I thought you’d studied English?” Alex must’ve been made privy to his CV, or Busybody had told him.

Damnit, he shouldn’t have asked for help after all. Not from him. “I’m dyslectic,” he said, lowering his gaze from the screen and staring down at the keyboard.

Alex stilled and drew back. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

‘ _Fuck you, for putting me on the spot like this._ ’ “I’m dyslectic,” he repeated louder, clearer. ‘ _You asshole_.’

Torturous silence, then, “wait here.”

The man removed himself and Robbie could hear the knock on Busybody’s office and him disappearing inside to tell the woman in charge of their resident dunce.

His face was burning with anger and shame.

Busybody came in, heels rapping against the linoleum floor. “Robbie, when I asked you if there was anything else we needed to know about you, _this_ is exactly what I meant.”

Yes, well, he had thought she’d referred to his criminal record and other transgressions. Not his learning disabilities! And there had been no way in hell that that would’ve been the first thing he’d tell her, as he was already dangling loose.

She didn’t wait for his reply but carried on. “We, _you_ and _I_ , will have to contact the employment agency and social insurance to set you up with the software and aid required. There’s no need for you to suffer in silence.” Jabbing a finger in his general direction.

‘ _Men_ ’, he heard her mutter under her breath as she disappeared back into her office like a blue and red hurricane wearing pearls before he’d processed the incident.

Robbie blinked in confusion. What did just happen?

Alex pulled one of the office chairs over and straddled it by his side. “Robbie?”

“Don’t.” He was beyond pissed at the man. He’d given him the scare of his life when he’d walked out like that without explaining what he was up to. He’d thought he’d tell Busybody to get rid of him!

“Are you part of any dyslexia associations? You also need to get in touch with the municipal workers’ union.”

He frowned and looked to meet the other’s gaze. “What?” Alex’s face was serious, watching him with intent.

“You’re entitled to dyslexia aids at your workplace,” he said, as if that was the most obvious thing on earth.

“You could have fucking told me that when you decided to march into Bessie’s office.”

“I…” He could practically hear it click into place for the man. “Jesus, Robbie, I’m not trying to get you fired.”

Could have fooled him.

He didn’t reply and instead turned to the computer screen to correct the underlined misspellings.

“How did you deal with it in college?”

God, was he still there?! “They had special support, separate examination rooms, spelling programs... And audiobooks.”

Alex nodded slowly.

Robbie laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t even know I was dyslectic until I started to study again on compulsory level.”

“How did they miss that?” _They_ having to be the school he went to when he'd dropped out.

“Beats me.”

“Robbie,” Busybody called, “I need you in here to talk some sense into this liaison of yours.”

He hit send and left the other man by the computers without another word.

Maybe the guy wasn’t that bad, and he was a little too judgemental.

The jury was still out on that though, having taken an extended decision time.

 

Of course, on his last day of his trial period he hit him in the head with an apple.

Seriously? An apple?

“I’m sorry, but, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” the offender said. Having poked Robbie, ignoring his protests, and deemed that Robbie’s trauma was hyperbole.

“Food is for growing not throwing,” Robbie mimicked what he’d caught Alex say to a couple of teens tossing around a banana in the youth centre the other day, “ _yet here we are!_ ”

True, it hadn’t been a hard throw, a toss across the room for someone to catch, and Robbie, who’d come out from checking up on the music room, ending up right in the crossfire, effectively getting the side of his head hit. However, that still didn’t make it okay to toss around fruits and other things that carelessly.

“Hypocritecus,” he groaned in annoyance. Besmirching the nickname brought a sense of satisfaction.

Alex shook his head and a laugh escaped him. “You’ll be fine.”

“Sportaklutz.”

“Don’t call him names,” a kid had the nerve to spout. “He said he was sorry.”

“Are you kidding me?” Robbie spotted a girl the embodiment of the colour pink. Ah, the niece Busybody had mentioned.

“Stephanie, it’s alright.”

It very well wasn’t, Robbie wanted to protest. _He_ was practically the injured party here!

A throat clearing to demand their attention and, “Alex, a moment?”

They all looked up to find Busybody on the walkway, looking mighty displeased.

Oh, someone was in trouble.

Ten minutes later Busybody called for him as well. Ah crap. Was she going to force them to wear a get along shirt?

Alex was to his surprise nowhere to be seen in the small office. He must’ve gone into their own office space next doors.

She was blunt. “Are there any issues between you and Alex?”

“I… No?” Except that the guy had crushed his hand on his very first day in some kind of oafish display of masculine superiority, general aloofness towards him, had made Robbie fear he’d get fired because he expected Robbie to know what he was thinking and hit him in the head with an apple and basically told him to walk it off. “I don’t, personally.” It wasn’t his fault that the man couldn’t make up his mind what kind of treatment he should subject Robbie to. “Not from _my_ side anyway.” That came out sounding far more bitter than he’d meant to.

‘ _Don_ _’t. Rock. The. Fucking. Boat_ ,’ he chastised himself. It was his last day of his trial period, and Busybody had yet to tell him if she wanted him to stay or not. He didn’t need this to tip the scale in his disfavour with finality. “It’s only a little rough and tumble. Guys being guys, and all that.”

She drew her face into a pinched expression. “Robbie, honesty will get us all a long way. If there is a conflict between the two of you, I want to work out the best way to resolve it.”

Had he been Ziggy’s age, he might have stomped his foot and exclaimed, ‘ _he started it!_ ’ There was something attractive in the prospect of doing so. He put away that thought, lest he might act out on it. He jerked his head in a positive.

“If this continues, I want you to come to me directly, so we can sort this out like adults. The policy of equal treatment and respect extends to us working here as well, and not just the youths.”

“About that… Today is my last day of my trial work period.”

“It is indeed.” Busybody opened the door leading into the staff’s room as she continued talking, “that’s why I wanted to put an end to this tomfoolery, before we’d scare you away. Coffee?”

He followed her, feeling more than a little bewildered.

“I was more afraid that you’d say that you wanted to terminate your employment and quit after the period had run out,” she explained.

She had to be joking, surely. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve invested resources. I wouldn’t had wrangled with that contact of yours at the agency if I didn’t want you to stay.”

That was true. He’d been with her as she’d argued to get the dyslectic aid set up pronto.

“I think you’ve done an excellent job, all things considered.”

“Thank you, Elisabeth, I would very much like to stay.”

“Then,” she smiled wide up at him, “welcome onboard, Robert.”

They walked out onto the walkway to drink their coffee.

Alex was back in the court below them, in conversation with little miss pink and her posse.

“I’m thinking of asking Stephanie to look after Ziggy,” Busybody said after a while of watching them.

“Pinkie babysitting? Isn’t she the same age?”

“She’s eleven, and it might bring Ziggy a sense of belonging.”

Robbie hummed. The pink girl down there appeared to collect all sorts of types around her. A leading figure that connected a group of people that might otherwise not come together all at once, whether it be genuine friends, a crew, or a gang.

“What’s Alex’s deal?” Robbie just couldn’t figure him out. He wanted to dismiss him as a meathead, nothing but eye candy… But…

“What do you mean?”

“How does a bodybuilder end up here?”

She scoffed and replied, “he’s not a bodybuilder, he’s a former national athlete.”

“He’s a what?” Actually, that did kind of make sense. It most certainly explained the odd nickname. It was either that, or he was a PA teacher that had found his conscience and decided to stop tormenting school pupils at his mercy.

Busybody gave him an indulgent smile, however there was something rueful behind it as she said, “used to be a big deal too, European championship level, before he had to quit.”

“Wow, what happened?”

“Some kind of soft tissue damage. Poor thing pushed himself too hard I think, both physically, and then mentally when he tried to recover and get back in there.” She finished her coffee. “But here I go, talking as if he’s dead. You should ask him about it yourself.”

Below them Alex sneezed.

“And stop throwing things at each other, please.”

Seemed as though even Bessie was in the habit of collecting odd people. A shopaholic, an ex-offender… And a washed-up star athlete.

“I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a trip


	5. Nutcracker's Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella makes her debut, and Both Alex and Robbie say too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to tag number five on Additional tags.

“God, she’s pretty,” Penny said in a low voice as she leaned over the counter and inclined her head to the direction of the booths. “She looks like a doll, don’t you think?”

Robbie looked up from stacking the juice packages inside the kiosk to where Penny was nodding. A young girl, fair-skinned and with inky black hair in two pigtails, probably around eleven years old, a tween as far as he could tell anyway, was sitting alone in the booth the furthest away from them with her back towards the main exit. The same seat as always. Her safe zone he presumed. She came in a couple of times a week, enough that even Robbie registered her as a familiar face.

She looked like she was made out of porcelain, he thought.

Shortly after the school closed and they in turn opened their doors, she’d come in and watch the other youths socialise and occasionally get something from the kiosk. As of now, she was digging through her backpack, her head would move up to look over at their direction, then duck down. Seeming to have come to a decision, she got out of her seat and moved towards them.  

She didn’t as much walk as she swayed like a pendulum. A dancer’s walk? The purple dress and petite patent shoes made it more appropriate to compare her to a ballerina figurine.

She took two lollipops from a jar Robbie had set up opposite to the bowl of fruits and gave Robbie the exact amount of cash without a sound. Her eyes flicking up to Penny by her side under the straight cut bangs curiously. Her voice was thin when she opened her mouth, “thank you,” directed to Robbie and did the distinctive flowing gait back to her booth.

Huh, that was new, she would at most nod in thanks and be on her way to continue her people watching. Progress, he supposed.

He noted something else by pure chance.

With her hair down, it would have been impossible to distinguish at all and due to the flesh tone of the device he would’ve missed it even now, had she not been right across from him when she turned around and he spotted it behind her ear.

He shook his head to indicate for Penny to stay silent. When the girl had retaken her seat, sticking one of the lollies in her mouth and looked over towards where the other youths were playing, he said, “she either has super hearing with that aid plugged in, or she turns it off with all this racket around her.” To further explain, he said, “she’s wearing a hearing aid.”

His colleague’s eyes widened. “How did you see that?”

He shrugged. He had an eye for details, though he hadn’t noticed the aid until now.

Penny tapped her shin and gave the strange child a once over. “You know, she only buys something when it’s you in the kiosk.”

“I didn’t know you were spying on me, or her, that’s creepy.” Besides, he was almost always manning the kiosk.

It went without saying that Alex manned the kiosk even less than Robbie had to be out in the indoor court. Penny had been right that Alex detested the kiosk. If not the chore itself, then what it represented on a fundamental level.

“No, I’m serious.”

“Maybe your enthusiasm makes her uncomfortable.”

Penny seemed to mull this over. “I think you’re right. Not everyone is as outgoing as Stephanie, or Trixie. Just look at Pixel, if it wasn’t for them then I doubt he’d engage with the rest of the group.”

Robbie just made a thoughtful noise pretending that he knew the odd nicknames of the regulars of kids. Trixie had to be the loud brash girl always by pinkie’s side, and Pixel the boy who was more often than not seen with his face smooched up against a tablet.

It was the only conclusion that made sense. It sure as hell wasn’t the snotty one that they had to pry off the gaming consol the other day. Even Ziggy looked well adjusted compared to that meltdown.

“A bit like you, I suppose,” she added.

He scoffed. Robbie was more than glad to let the two other recreational workers run around being over the top friendly, leaving him to tend to the more calmer activities. “Aren’t you on break?”

“I thought I’d hang out with you. Also, I was wondering what was up with you and Alex lately.”

Ugh, great,  _that_. Busybody’s intentions might have been good natured, but all she’d accomplished was making an awkward situation worse. He went back down under the counter to continue stacking the juice. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Robbie wasn’t the most talkative person and Alex had his own thing going on with running around with the younger kids. And that was that.

 

Then again, the guy had a tendency to surprise him and he didn’t disappoint a few days later.

 

Sometimes it happened that they had lunch before they opened up the lower floor. Late brunch in Robbie’s case.

And that’s when the other decided to break the silent awkwardness since Robbie had gotten his permanent position.

“How was the Valentines marathon?” Alex asked offhandedly.

Holy hell, he was speaking to him again? If he didn’t know better, he’d thought that the other man had been avoiding him since the uncomfortable lecture from Busybody. He quickly recovered though, it was shoptalk, nothing else, even though the marathon had been held the previous week. “All good, until after the second intermission.”

Alex tilted his head to the side, silently imploring him to elaborate, which he did.

“Do you know how awkward it is to tell two teenagers to keep it in their pants? _Repeatedly?_ ” Getting paid to sit back and watch a bunch of cringy movies was alright by him. But, threatening to hose down a couple of frisky kids was not one of his finer moments.

Penny who’d been there to witness the whole thing, and had, to add insult to injury, been of no help whatsoever, was wheezing up a storm by the microwave.

Alex snorted in amusement and removed the lid to his own packed lunch. Salad. It was always salad of some sort. He’d eat about half of it, then save the rest for his break and in-between that he'd be commonly seen with a fruit in hand. Not that Robbie was paying attention to that, that’d be weird…

“Yes, yes, laugh it up,” he groused.

Penny put down her container and joined them. “Hold on,” pointing an accusatory finger at the plate before him, “is that a pan pizza from the kiosk?”

“I paid for it.” He pulled out a receipt. It was cheap enough, until he’d get his first real salary tomorrow. He was still wrapping his head around that one.

“But, aren’t you allergic!?”

“Pizza sauce is different. If it’s heated I can have it.”

The other man perked up at that, because of course the prospect of Robbie being able to eat something of the vegetable kind would catch his interest. “Could you have apple slices if they’ve been heated?”

“No.”

With a disappointed look he went back to his food. Tough cookie.

Penny hummed a melody under her breath, Robbie wasn’t the only one excited over receiving their monthly pay. He was about to tuck into his own food when, “by the way, I think that deaf girl is starting to come around,” she said around a mouthful of her lunch. “I saw her by the dance games when it had quieted down in that corner. She’s _good_.”

“Her name is Ella,” he filled in.

“She actually told you?”

“She asked what mine was, so I asked for hers.”

“I was starting to think she was completely antisocial.”

Robbie grimaced and put down his cutlery all together. “Do you even know what that word means?” He didn’t need to be great at reading and spelling to know linguistics and meaning. Thank you, college degree, for not being _completely_ useless.

“Introvert and unwilling to engage with others?”

“That’s asocial, or unsocial if you’d prefer. _Those_ are the words you should use. Antisocial is linked to sociopathic behaviour.” He knew he was sounding pompous and a know-it-all. But, jeez.

“Seriously?”

“Robbie’s right.” Alex, who had been sitting silently by, looked up from his homemade chicken salad and continued, “asocial is when you don’t like to socialise, and with anti-social behaviour it’s a show of conduct disorder. There were some youths and young adults at my last workplace that displayed that type of behaviour and were a handful for us to deal with.”

“What he said.” Robbie leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Their female colleague had an owlish expression on her face as she stared at the man. “Where was that?” she asked and put down her own cutlery with a clatter, all attention on him.

Alex looked uncomfortable at the question, after a beat he said, “I used to work at a boy’s only youth’s assisted housing. Most of them were alright kids, but, some of them were of mental health concerns… Some bad enough that they were threats to the other youths living there.”

Robbie was sure both Penny and he were looking at him like he’d grown a second head, judging by how Alex squirmed.

“You never told me you’d worked at an assisted housing,” she sounded accusative. Well, that was a small comfort, Robbie wasn’t the only one Alex was being inscrutable with. Robbie had been there for five weeks, and those two had been working together for nearly three years!

The man had the good taste to look embarrassed and stabbed a piece of lettuce at the bottom of his lunchbox.

Robbie asked, “what was it like?”

“We tried to run a tight ship, but at times it was organised chaos.” Done with trying to kill the piece of lettuce he gave up and switched out his utensils to cradle a mug of tea in his hands. “They’d steal anything that wasn’t bolted to the ground or locked away.” He looked over to Robbie, that almost smile was there, blink and you’d miss it. “We even had to lock up the pantry with the spices.”

Robbie had a sneaking suspicion of why that had been necessary. “To keep them from the nutmeg?”

Alex hummed and nodded in affirmation.

So, it had been _that_ kind of place. No wonder Alex hadn’t mentioned it before.

Penny’s head whipped between them, confusion written clearly over her face. “I don’t understand. What would they want the nutmeg for?”

Robbie answered before the filter between brain and mouth had time to kick in, “you can get a buzz from nutmeg and it’s hallucinogenic if it’s ingested in a high enough dose. You’ll feel like crap and it takes days for it to exit your system though.” He turned back to Alex. “They must’ve been really desperate.” It was a poor man's choice with many drawbacks. Horrible taste and nausea aside, you’d also sleep like the dead for two-three days, _and then_ have the mother of all migraines because of severe dehydration.

Alex met his gaze and held it. “Yes,” he said. His mouth tugged into a smile, somehow accented by his moustache and visibly relaxing at someone understanding what he was talking about.

 

Even if it was unbeknownst to him from the opposite side of the spectrum.

 

“Holy shit,” Penny exhaled next to them, “how did I not know this?” She looked up at him and frowned. “Wait, how do _you_ know this?”

Robbie choked on saliva at the sudden question. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

Thankfully, Alex was the one to answer her inquiry and unwittingly save Robbie’s ass. “It’s common knowledge. Check google and it’s the first thing that comes up.”

Penny took out her phone and started typing. “Wow, it didn’t even let me finish the word nutmeg and it suggested ‘ _nutmeg intoxication_ ’.”

Disaster temporarily averted, Robbie wolfed down his pan pizza and chugged his soda to keep his mouth from spouting more self-incriminating titbits.

“The more you know… I’ll catch you later downstairs,” Penny said eventually after scraping the last of her lunch out of her container and left the two men together.

 

Commence awkward silence.

 

His stomach was feeling queasy.

The smart thing would probably be to vamoose as well, instead his treacherous mouth refused to get with the programme. “So, uh, you were a warden of sorts or…?” Robbie trailed off.

“Rehabilitation assistant.”

“Oh.”

Alex stared down at the contents of his mug. “It’s very different from working here.”

Robbie could only imagine. Before he’d cut all ties, he’d known people who’d gone in and out of those places, to eventually fall off the grid, or get incarcerated.

Alex cleared his throat and smiled up at him. “So, Ella, that’s the quiet one that’s been sitting in the booths?”

Oh thank god for the change of subject. “Yes, she’s not completely deaf, but she has severe hearing impairment.”

“Good to see that she’s starting to reach out to one of us at least. I was beginning to worry about her.”

“Nah, some just want to be alone and do their own thing until they’re ready. She’s pretty textbook; she hovers near other children but never joins in because she’s insecure about hearing what other people are saying.” The last thing they should do is try and force her to interact.

He hummed and took a sip. The tea had to be tepid by now. “They tend to pick out favourites too as a starting point, the younger ones that is.”

“You’re almost everyone’s favourite. But I don’t complain if this is how it goes, I get the decent ones. You can keep the rowdy bunch.”

“It works both ways. I don’t pick favourites, not consciously, but you get more familiar with some than with others.”

“Pinkie,” he stated. The pink girl was dogging the man like a second shadow.

“Stephanie tends to stick out, yes. But, there are others than just her.”

“Like?”

“I think the one kid I’ve known the longest is now sixteen.” He shrugged. “Jives. He’s been a regular since he was eleven. Used to be a quiet kid too that mostly kept to himself in the beginning. Came in almost every day, partook in all the summer activities. You tend to remember those kids and they leave a bigger impression.” He gave him a lopsided smile, however it faltered somewhat at the next words, “I don’t see him that often here anymore… It’s normal though, they find new hobbies and friends as they get older.”

Robbie couldn’t imagine Ella being rowdy any more than he could imagine Alex without his strange moustache. But, who knew. “If she too becomes a shrieking hooligan like the rest of them, I’m holding you responsible.”

Alex grinned, it was infectious and made Robbie feel all funny as he left him in the breakroom.

Or, he was having an allergic reaction.

 

His stomach ache got tenfold worse like a stab in his gut.

 

Yep, definitely his allergies.

Must’ve been something unmarked in the list of contents.

 

“ _Oh, come one!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's going to be "that" kind of story.


	6. The work husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faux pas and the boys getting more used to one another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A self-directed jab at my own messy American British English.  
> There's a slur there too.

Robbie coughed into the bend of his arm and sniffled. Another drawback with working with kids; they were one hell of a source of infection. Why he had to pay the price for other people not being able to grasp the concept of basic hygiene was beyond him.

“You look a little pale, are you feeling alright?”

Robbie looked past the computer screen to Alex who was hovering ominously by the office’s entrance. “Got a cold.”

“I bet you wouldn’t get sick if you ate better,” he said and went to their kitchenette.

Not this again. Alex had been a pain in the neck ever since Robbie’s allergic reaction back in February.

He almost missed the awkward silence. A big almost, but if the other man kept this up he might.

 

It had been painful, both for his pride and his body, to explain to a concerned volunteer that, ‘ _no, I do not have the stomach bug, my immune system is just fucking stupid, now close the damn door!_ ’ as he had his head down the porcelain bowl worshipping the WC gods in the locker room’s restroom.

And when he’d gotten rid of the volunteer, then _Alex_ had poked his head in to assess the situation, thankfully by then Robbie was already done.

“My body has it out for me,” he’d complained to no one in particular.

Alex who’d gotten a damp piece of tissue for Robbie to wipe his face had hummed in an agreeable note.

“It sucks.”

“Yeah, I get that…”

It had looked like Alex was about to elaborate on his expression of empathy, but then the goddamn volunteer had come back, and his colleague had to shoo him off.

He’d later explained that this one was bit of a hypochondriac this… Tim? Tom? _Thaddeus?_ Names, not his strongest suite. If it was of such self-concern, one would think that he’d stay the hell away.

 

Having the whole office going all thoughtful on his irritated hide, _thank you, rashes_ , was one hell of a bag of mixed feelings. On one hand he was moved, and he was eternally grateful that Bessie had mentioned nothing about the hours he’d been indisposed. On the other… He wasn’t made of glass, damnit.

 

In the here and now, Robbie resorted to simply grunting in reply, since arguing only seemed to make the other man more determined to change Robbie’s wicked ways of intake of whatever passed for food.

He had half a mind to bring in a fish finger sandwich with mayo tomorrow, merely for the look of horror on the other’s face. It was fish, _healthy_ , but corrupted. Yes, he’d do that.

 

Lost in his work he jerked in surprised when Alex came up to the desk and set down a steaming mug of _something_ by the keyboard.

“Oh no, what’s this?”

“Grated ginger and honey. Lemon would improve it, but since you’re allergic I had to skip a few ingredients.”

There was that mixed feeling again. Robbie looked down at it with wide eyes, up to the man, then back at the mug and frowned.

They weren’t close by any means, hell, he knew nothing about the guy beside his country of birth and mention of former career in sports -none from the horse’s mouth. And here he was, making him sodding cold remedies.

Alex looked beyond smug when he took the mug in his hands.

“I did not ask for you to make me this.”

“Try it, please.”

He sniffed the concoction. Not that it did any difference. The warm vapor was nice though. He eyed him warily over the rim. “If I drink this, will you cease and desist, and let me do my job?” He was about to taste it when he had enough sense to add, “and if I have an allergic reaction I expect compensation.”

“Okay.” Alex face split into a wide grin. Yes, yes, no need to rub it in.

It could’ve done with more honey.

He refocused on the computer screen when Alex just had to pipe up again. “How do you not have scurvy?”

A little extreme, wasn’t it? Vitamin deficiency, yes sure, but _scurvy_? Robbie could not help but to bait him. “Who says I don’t?” Grinning right back for the hell of it.

“Robbie.” It was the same tone he used with some of the more difficult children.

“Vitamin pills,” he said and waved him off. “A handful of supplements and my teeth won’t rot out.”

That answer did not seem to get him off his case. “You should try other natural sources of vitamins.”

Robbie gave him a dirty look. Easy for him to come in all high and mighty and impose unsolicited life advice like an obnoxious dietitian. It wasn’t until very recently that Robbie could actually afford proper grocery shopping. And the other _natural sources_ that he could ingest were broccoli and brussels sprouts!

_Brussels sprouts!_

Hell. No.

“Noted” he said flatly. “Now shoo! I’m drinking your disgusting tea!”

 

Alex… What an odd bird.

 

And then there was Penny!

 

Robbie felt at times at a disadvantage and pumped out of personal information. Anything that he was willing, or able to give a vague answer to anyway. Where he was from since his accent differed from the local one, his family -they weren’t close. Robbie refused to go into further details, but his general answers seemed to keep Bessie and Penny sated. Regular questions that were normal in the stages of bonding in the workplace.

 

But there were questions that he should have foreseen when they’d gotten comfortable enough around him.

And this, it bares to repeat, was _Penny_ , whom lacked their superior’s discretion.

 

“Do you think Alex is hot?” she asked out of nowhere while helping out in the main area. It was a Wednesday, only high schoolers on Wednesdays.

He nearly dropped the game table they were moving. “Do I what?!”

Against his better judgement he chanced a glance over to the man’s current location. Alex was in the kiosk, looking miserable. Wednesdays meant less running and games, leaving the former athlete without a distraction from the more mundane chores. Like administration and the kiosk. He never complained, but you could see that he was displeased about the whole situation. It made Robbie wonder what the man did in his spare time. Run endlessly on a treadmill?

“I mean, look at those teen girls. They’re practically falling out of their seats when he passes. I bet he’s the only reason they come here at all.”

And some of the boys too, he gathered. “Then why do you ask me?”

“Well, I mean… You’re…”

Robbie let go of the table and leaned against one of the room dividers to stare her down.

She was uncomfortable in the hole she had dug for herself. “You wear makeup.”

Barely, this was his work look as he had dubbed it. “And?” He knew what she was on about, however, he found no humour in the vague phrasing. If she said something as idiotic as _batting for the other team_ , he’d laugh in her face and walk away and let her deal with this fooseball table on her own.

“Flamboyant?”

Oh, for crying out loud.

“A faggot?” he said in an even no-nonsense tone.

She visibly recoiled at the word. _Good_. “You can’t-”

“Different rules, _I_ can,” he interjected before she started on a moral sermon. He knew more than well how bad it was. “And yes, I am.”

“You shouldn’t say it around the youths and especially not _here_.”

“I would never dream of it.” A one time thing, she was right, he shouldn’t use this type of language here of all places. “I only said it because you were irritating.” And because he wanted to see how she’d react at the slur.

She sucked on her teeth in disapproval. “That’s not nice.”

“I don’t know where you got the idea from that I’m a nice person.”

At that she snorted. “No offense, but you seem pretty much like a softy”

‘ _Because people change,_ ’ he thought.

“Anyway, hot or not? What do you think?” God, there was no deterring her, was there?

“Do _you_?” he lobbed right back.

“I check him out, and I have a boyfriend already.” She lowered her voice to a conspiring tone. “He was so jealous when he saw Alex, it took me weeks to fully convince him that there wasn’t anything going on. But, looking doesn’t hurt.”

Admitting that your significant other was easy to get jealous and possessive was not a good thing, girl. “I have eyes,” Robbie agreed reluctantly. “And should I be worried about your boyfriend? That doesn’t sound good, at all.”

“Eh,” she noised instead of an actual answer, then continued on about their third, “I mean, he’s what, forty? No kids, single? Or, I think so anyway… Makes one wonder what his deal is.”

As far as they knew, which wasn’t that much when you came to think of it. Penny had been working with him for three years this upcoming summer and she’d had no idea that Alex had been a rehab assistant for juveniles and other young derelicts before he got this gig.

 

Maybe it was because of the way she asked?

 

He shrugged. “Has the thought struck you, that maybe, he isn’t _into_ anything?”

It wasn’t any of their business anyway.

Penny hummed thoughtfully. “I was right about you, but...”

 _Not helping, Penny_.

“I will drop this table on you,” he threatened. “What do you want to know?”

She shifted her grip on her end, not that they had moved the table since she’d started talking. “There’s something I wonder about, an expression I’ve heard.”

Well, things couldn’t get more awkward and she’d already posed the worst questions in the worst ways. “Shoot.”

“So… What’s _cruising_?

Evidently, he was wrong!

He let go of his end again and spun around to the direction of the kiosk. “Hey, Sportayawn! Can you help me with this fooseball table?! Penny keeps asking weird questions!”

“Oy!” she protested.

Alex fluidly vaulted over the counter and jogged over. Wow, someone was eager. It was a little impressive. Impressive that he didn’t knock anything down.

 

It was when Alex took Penny’s spot on the opposite of the game table that Robbie realised that he could’ve asked him to take his spot instead. Penny was probably stronger than him anyway. Her small frame was deceiving. And, based on the pleased look on Penny’s face and the thumb up she gave him behind the man’s back, he was immediately regretting his decision. Had he somehow played straight into her hands?

“I am not part of your meddlesome experiment, woman!”

She merely saluted him and frolicked off to the tech lab.

“What?” Alex asked in confusion.

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” Robbie huffed.

If he was red-faced and flustered it was because of the weight of the fooseball table.

 

Alex could be the brawn and Robbie the brains, as the stronger one of them took the brunt of the weight and he himself tried to steer the accursed thing. “My left, your right! Oh my god!”

Or maybe not.

 

“It’s not heavy, but it’s cumbersome,” Alex said when they finally had gotten it past two room dividers and around a corner to settle it in its new home by the pool tables.

“Speak for yourself,” he muttered.

Alex was in no hurry going back to the sedentary chores just yet and he leaned against one of the pool tables to ask Robbie, “what kind of questions did she ask you?”

“She asked me about a euphemism.” _For starters_.

“Well, you did study English.”

Not that that had anything to do with euphemisms and idioms. Robbie elaborated, “personal euphemism she’ll have to buy me dinner first to get the answer to.”

The eyebrows went up high. Bless the man, he did try to keep a straight face until he burst out laughing. “That bad?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll admit, English has a lot of strange euphemisms and sayings that completely flies over my head.

“Your English is fine. You’ve studied it as a second language and have an outsider’s perspective.”

“I try.” Alex had that smug look again despite trying to appear bashful.

Robbie couldn’t help himself. After years of linguistic science, you developed a certain compulsion. “You have a modern trans-Atlantic English. Not the accent, your accent is distinct Nordic and atrocious,” he pointed out and to which Alex snorted, “but the terminology and specific words that you use. Like, the words lift or elevator, autumn or fall, football or soccer, you use them interchangeably.” Especially that last one. Robbie had taken notice of that when Alex confused people with different sport expressions.

Alex nodded. “I didn’t know you paid attention to that.”

“Uehm.” Oh boy, that did make him sound like a creep, didn’t it? “I spent years studying linguistic science, so things like that stick.” He had a tight grip on the edge of the fooseball table so not to let his hands deceive him.

“I’m surprised that you decided to work at a youth centre, if your main interest is linguistics. Unless you wanted to be a teacher.”

“I am not the teaching type.” Pedagogy be damned.

“No, you’re not,” Alex agreed. “What made you choose to study English?”

The man was really dragging it out to postpone the inevitable of having to go back, if he was all of a sudden starting to ask Robbie about his interests. “An act of defiance? After I got my diagnose as dyslectic a lot of things,” like, his whole life, “suddenly fell into place and I wanted to… I dunno, explore it?” To not be stupid and a screw up because he couldn’t fucking read. He was a screw up for many other reasons, but he didn’t want _this_ to be one of them. They had set him up with a similar aid that he’d had on compulsory level and in college. He hadn’t known about his rights to dyslectic aid in the workplace, but he was, hopefully, past that self-imposed stigma now.

Robbie was on the verge of asking the other about the alleged former career in athletics and just what had happened, but then Alex spoke again, “I was going to say some of the kids, but it’s mostly Stephanie, so,” he said, “Stephanie thinks that you are bullying me.” He looked far too happy for the allegation.

“She does what now?”

“Because of the different variations of Sportacus you use.”

He did oh so not want another talk with Busybody about conflicts in the workplace. “If you’re bothered by it, I can stop.”

“No, no! It’s fine.” He put his hands up. “I actually find them amusing, how you make up different versions based on circumstances. I’ve already told her to stop, I just wanted to give you a heads up if she tries to confront you, or something like that.”

She must be getting it from aunt Bessie. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Alex honest-to-god _winked_ at him and pushed away from the pool table, back to work.

 

Robbie was making a bigger deal out of it than necessary. The man winked at people out of habit it seemed. Busybody, Penny, the kids, but Robbie just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end.

 

It was a little bit later, when they had cleared out the stragglers and closed for the evening, in the locker room that Robbie asked him. “What’s up with the nickname anyway?”

“Sportacus?”

“Are there any other nicknames that I need to be made aware of?” He’d just recently learnt and managed to remember that the snotty kid’s nickname was Stingy, which was a bit cruel if it hadn’t been so fitting. He did not need yet another one.

“It’s from when I started here, I-” he cut himself of. “No wait, I can even show you, hold on a sec.”

Alex reached into his locker, number ten, the quirk of Robbie’s own inverted numbers did not escape him, and rummaged around. “Here!” he declared in triumph and handed over a grey bundle of cotton to Robbie that he realised was a hoodie, and then the name made sense.

There on the back was the word  _Sportacus_ printed over the back in white and a silhouette of what Robbie could only assume was a gladiator, either that or a random muscly guy, it was hard to tell with silhouettes.

“It’s a gym I used to go to before they relocated. I wore it pretty much all the time when I started here, and the regulars started calling me by it. And it… Well, it stuck whether I liked it or not,” he laughed. “It went down through the years of visitors.”

“Like a cultural memory.” The younger visitors must’ve heard the older ones call him it and it was thus inherited.

“Kinda.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side. “Now, I only wear it when it’s a bit chilly outside during the summer months. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.”

The hoodie was well worn and soft, fraying out in the ends of the sleeves and the inside of the collar was discoloured from dirt and sweat that no amount of washing could remove. Hoodie stealing girlfriends seemed to make all the sense now. “Do they even know about the actual Spartacus, or the Spartacus war?”

“I highly doubt it. And telling them that the name originates from a gladiator that started a slave revolt will not help my case. I’d probably hear it more often instead,” he said as he secured a scarf around his neck and zipped his jacket close. He held his hand out towards Robbie and he stared owlishly down at it until he with embarrassment understood that the man wanted his hoodie back.

“Probably,” he agreed and gave it back.

“See you tomorrow.”

Robbie returned the goodbye and threw his own jacket on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penny, girl, no, just no.  
> Is it normal to cringe at your own imagined scenario? Asking for me.


	7. Pot and kettle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex introduces Jives to Robbie.  
> And Robbie, in turn, tries to do the right thing the completely wrong way -twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aggressively points to the "drug use" tag again.

And here Robbie had thought that Alex’s crocheted cap was one of the most tasteless headwear he’d ever had the misfortune of encountering.

The moss green beanie on top of a gangly teen’s head was tenfold worse.

The kid could at least wash it?

“Jives!”

Robbie started at the sudden outburst close by.

The teenager also looked like he was a fraction from jumping out of his skin completely, whipping his head in the direction of the source.

Alex came at an alarming speed up to the teen.

“Sportacus?!”

Ah, so this tall gangly thing was the elusive Jives?

Alex gave the boy a bear hug then drew back to hold him at arm’s length by his shoulders, frowning and wrinkling his nose. “Your mum still smokes?”

The teen ducked his head. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry about that,” he chastised him, smiling broadly though.

There was something Robbie was getting lost in translation here.

“Hey, Robbie!” he called for him to stop skulking by the tables and greet the gangly teen. Oh joy.

The man slung his arm over the panicked boy’s shoulders and motioned him forward with him.

It was rather funny seeing them. At first glance, they were almost the same height standing side by side, but if the teen would straighten up, then he’d have at least three or four centimetres on the older man. An awkward beansprout on the cusp of adulthood. And judging by his appearance he wasn’t entirely done growing. His face was still soft and oval, not quite yet having lost all the puppy fat despite his body, hiding under the yellow hoodie and saggy skater jeans, looking like it had been through a session or two on the rack to stretch out. Muddy eyes peered up at Robbie with caution, not entirely sure what to make of him. Well, the feeling was mutual, that was all he could say.

His hand was limp and clammy as he shook it, Robbie had to adjust his grip, being the stronger one for a change.

Up close he understood what had made his colleague wrinkle his nose and ask about smoking.

The kid’s clothes reeked of cigarette smoke. Poor sod.

But, wasn’t it a bit too much for having spent all day in school before coming here? 

A woman in Robbie’s class during college could always without fault be seen out in the smoking area in between sessions. She reeked of it and Robbie had made it a rule of thumb to be on the opposite side of the classroom, as far as possible from the cigarette stench at all times. It had made group assignments awkward as hell. This was a little bit like that, if the stench had impregnated the poor kid’s clothes. Not to speak of the second hand smoking. There was something else there though… It was hard to tell with the odour.

Alex let go of his shoulders and tugged on his beanie in teasing.

His hands went immediately up for the hat and swayed abruptly away with the motion. “Easy there,” the older man secured his hold on the youth’s shoulder again, “are you alright?”

The boy yanked the hat back down, but a few stray locks of mousy brown could be seen before he secured it in place. “I pulled an all-nighter studying. I wanted to stop by here on my way home from my test.”

Alex gave him a disapproving look, one Robbie was all too familiar with from whenever the health nut job was criticising his diet, and pointed out, to no one’s surprise, “if you don’t get proper sleep, studying will do you no good.”

“I’ll let the test results tell me about it,” he argued back.

Robbie would have to agree on that. Written tests weren’t made for deep learning.

“You don’t look too good though.” His brow creased. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Bro, I’m _fine_ ,” he chuckled weakly.

Oh god, _teenage lingo_.

Robbie felt like a third-wheeler here.

 

Someone yelled in the indoor court, it didn’t sound like a happy cry either. Robbie could barely contain himself for when they’d start using the field outside. For a completely different reason than anyone else, since he had a legitimate cause not to go outside during spring. For once, an actual _genuin_ e thank you, pollen allergies.

 

He was more than willing to go to the court for a change, anything to get away and leave the two of them to catch up, a win-win, but Alex was too hardwired to do his duty it would seem.

“Uh oh, I’ll be with you guys in a moment,” Alex excused himself and ran off towards the court with a wave.

“And there he goes,” Robbie lamented out loud.

The teen snorted.

Robbie tried to shimmy away to safety. “I need to go to the kiosk, nice meeting you.” Thank you, Alex, for leaving them to be awkward on their own, such a pal.

“Uhm, so,” Jives piped up before Robbie could make his gracious escape, “like, are you a new intern here or just someone’s dad?”

_Dad?!_

 

He froze in his step at the absurdity. Perish the disturbing thought. Did he really look that old, that he’d have a middle schooler already running around?! “I _work_ here. Been here since January.”

“Man, has it been that long since I was here?” the boy said more to himself than Robbie. “Hey, if you work the cash register, then can I buy from the kiosk now?”

“Sure,” he replied and darted inside it. “What will it be?”

“A Purple.”

Energy drink. “Gonna have to see some ID for that.”

Jives fumbled out from his small wallet a card and gave it to Robbie.

He eyed the piece of plastic in his hands. Sixteen, from less than two weeks ago.

“Coming in because you can finally buy energy drinks?” he joked. “Alex did complain that he hadn’t seen you in a while.”

Jives reacted to the words, but not quite in the way Robbie would’ve thought. “Sportacus said that?!” He was fidgeting.

Robbie tried to salvage the situation. “I’m messing with you.” He would also be jumpy if a total stranger told him that they knew of him. “He’s mentioned you in passing, nothing more.”

“Oh,” he said and let his eyes wander off to the side.

He handed back the ID card. And… Leaning over the counter, close to the kid, he caught a whiff of it again and the penny dropped.

There, masked under the stench of tobacco, that unmistakable scent of burning hemp rope and charred herbs you’d catch in the suburbs in the late evening. His clothes stank of more than just regular tobacco. Using a cigarette smoking relative as an excuse was all too easy.

“So, what subject was the test for?” he asked flippantly. _If there had even been one._

“Math.”

“Eww, horrible,” he said in feigned sympathy as he rummaged around the fridge for the energy drink, trying to hide his own frantic mind running itself into the ground. What to do, what to say?

“It’s redundant,” he complained. “What are statistics good for anyway?

His first instinct was to agree. He’d been on that level of school subjects not too long ago, but here he was trying to be a sensible adult that should encourage hard work and the virtues of being an upstanding citizen.

Which did not help him in the slightest here.

“Well,” he said, filling the conversation with the first thing that came to mind while his brain buzzed on in the background, “there are three types of lies; lies, damned lies, and _statistics_.”

Jives blinked in confusion at Robbie’s out of the blue quote, then started laughed, which then turned into a cough. And then he didn’t stop coughing.

That sealed the deal for Robbie.

Fucking Christ, had the stupid kid taken a hit and then gone directly to the centre?!

The school was right across the field. Had he taken it at the school grounds and then gone over here? Or better yet, somewhere even closer?

Jives was either coming down with a nasty cold, or he was very recently under the influence, if his lungs were still this irritated. He’d already checked off a couple of boxes. Unfocused, nervous, glassy eyed, _the fucking smell_.

There was only one way of finding out.

He took the plunge, trying to be discreet enough. “This is a drug-free environment. No alcohol, cigarettes or recreational drugs of any kind.”

His eyes went wide. “Bro, _what?_ ” he said in bewilderment. His hand with the money jerking to a halt, awkwardly hovering midway over the counter.

“You’re more than welcome here, but maybe, you should come back when you’re sober?” When subtle didn’t work, bring out the sledgehammer.

All colour left Jives’ face, making his freckles and occasional pimple stand out in stark contrast. He _knew_ that Robbie had caught on to his current state.

God, he wished that he’d been wrong and had just made himself look like a massive idiot. But, if there had been any doubt, Jives just had to go and make it all too clear that he had been right. “Shit, fuck.”

Kid got a nice vocab. “You reek,” he said when Jives had basically confirmed his allegation. Why couldn’t he just have denied it until he was blue in the face, like any sensible person would? “No amount of tobacco will cover that.”

Jives swallowed hard, protruding Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His eyes flicking to the side again, then down to the counter top. “Don’t tell Sportacus,” he pleaded, his voice sounding small and painfully young.

It was sheer dumb luck that Alex had bought the kid’s lie in the first place and had to go to help out with whatever that was going on in the court, before he too had figured out the reason for the strange behaviour. To turn up in this state was disrespectful!

He would. “I won’t, if you stay sober and prove it.” He double would. “Come back tomorrow. Until then, here.” He put the energy drink down on the counter between them.

 

Nodding dumbly and leaving the money on the counter top, he took the coloured can in hand and made a quick exit.

 

Robbie mentally slapped himself, he shouldn’t have given him the energy drink, not without knowing if the stupid teen had laced the weed with something that would react with the high dose of caffeine. Though, chances were probably that the teenager didn’t know if it had been or not anyway.

Groaning, he dragged his hands over his face. At least it hadn’t been in edible form, he could only imagine the hell that would’ve taken place if the teen had started to show symptoms of being under the influence out of nowhere. Especially while interacting with Alex.

 

Speaking of the devil. “Where did Jives go?” Alex came running back like an overeager retriever looking for the teenage boy.

It hurt to see him this excited, knowing the truth.

“He took the advice,” Robbie’s hopefully, “and went home to get some shut eye, I think,” he lied through his teeth. Better tell him what was really going on somewhere else, with less people around and when Robbie had come up with a good way of _how_ to tell him.

“That’s probably for the better, he seemed a bit out of it.”

Perfectly normal _,_ nothing to see here folks, do carry on.

“It was good seeing him again though.”

“Yeah… He seems like a nice kid.”

Alex crossed his arms and said in a dry voice, “shame that his mum insists on smoking. It’s not good for either of them, but, he seems to be doing better.” He smiled up at Robbie. “He used to have some serious vitamin deficiency as a kid.”

“Uhu.”

“He reminds me of you a little bit like that.”

Just put Robbie out of his misery already, would you be ever so kind.

“I hope he hasn’t taken up her bad habit. That cigarette smoke was a bit too strong for my liking.”

“Yeah…” About _that!_

Alex’s phone rang. “Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll see you later.”

 

That might be for the better. He had to gather his thoughts on how to tell him of this discovery.

The minutes passed, and his mind was still drawing a blank.

 

Oh, screw it. There was no way of sugar coating this.

 

“Penny have you seen the blue kangaroo around?”

“Alex? Yeah, I think he went to the locker rooms. Why?”

“Just something I have to discuss with him.”

 

Robbie would never admit that he jogged over to the men’s locker room. But, it was damn close to it from an outsider’s point of view.

 

He needed to speak with him about this, asap! Alex had been a rehab assistant, he knew what to do. Or, so he hoped.

This ought to be a fun conversation. ‘ _Hey, buddy? You know that kid you_ _’ve been gussing on about and stuff, and that you_ _’ve known since he was about yea high? Yeah, he_ _’s smoking weed and came in here under the influence. That_ _’s why he_ _’s uncoordinated and wavering about._ ’

 

It would be kinder to just shoot the man, or better yet, Robbie, than going through with this.

 

He checked the hallway outside for any volunteers loitering and slowed his pace down. The door to the men’s locker room had not closed completely. Sloppy, no one liked a voyeur. He pushed the door carefully, there was the noise of rustling from inside. Ah, that had to be his colleague.

“ _Helv_ _íti_ ,” he heard his voice hiss from inside the room.

Robbie didn’t know much about Icelandic but that sounded suspiciously like a _hell_ to him.

Alex had his back to him as he stuck his head in. He was about to announce his presence when the words died in his throat.

Alex muttered something under his breath in a sour tone and worked the front of his pants with one hand while the other held something away from his body.

 

A syringe.

 

What the ever-loving fuck?!

 

Robbie removed himself on pure autopilot and found that his body had taken him back to the main area on its own accord before his brain had caught on that he was moving towards the tech lab.

He needed to process this. Understand what he’d seen, before he jumped to conclusions.

 

Except he did jump to them. Or he would’ve asked what he’d walked in on without hesitation.

This was too much for one day for his head to handle.

He must’ve been standing amongst the computers lost in thought for longer than he thought. “Penny said that you were looking for me?” Alex voice came up right behind him in the lab.

“Gah!” He almost pulled one of the computer displays down with his stumble over a cord and nearly landed on his face.

Two strong hands taking hold of him were the only thing keeping gravity from succeeding.

“Woah! Are you okay?”

“Y, yes, yes, I’m fine. Pollen, you know. It’s begun.”

“O…kay?” he said, not looking convinced as he let go of him.

Robbie went with the random excuse of choice. “I was looking for you, yes. About pollen and the field outside.”

“Are you planning on joining us outside?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think I can. Unless you want me faffing about on antihistamines. I don’t think that would send the right message if they saw me lethargic on Benadryl.” It wasn’t a lie. He had been planning on explaining this at a staff meeting, but better using that argument now.

He rubbed his chin in thought and said, “I think you’re right about that.”

Robbie took a good look at him during that moment. Nothing unchanged about him. No marks, not uncovered by clothes anyway. No erraticness, or noteworthy changes in his eyes.

Still Alex.

Whatever that was.

 

Jives did, wonder of wonders, turn up the following day. Great, he hadn’t scared him off. Alex seemed happy enough seeing his favourite regular twice in as many days. Though, the kid stayed clear of Robbie’s general vicinity during his stay.

Until the very end, when he was about to leave. “Uhm, thanks,” he said in passing. His eyes were clear, and Robbie noted that they were actually golden hazel.

‘ _Don_ _’t thank me._ ’ “…Whatever.”

And off he’d gone. For that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this amount of over the top drama and cliché miscommunication bs I should be a screen writer... Hire me HBO Nordic?
> 
> The hint is in the tags.


	8. Metamorphosis, we're going through changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is a beauty queen. Meanwhile, Robbie is still processing... Stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me trying to cram a bunch of things in one chapter as per usual.
> 
> As for money, for a change, I’m leaving it open for interpretation whether it’s dollars or euro, bc the public admin and bureaucracy I’ve been describing thus far is as far from US public management you could get.

A combination padlock was all that stood between him and answers. He knew that type of lock, you didn’t need to be a math genius, guess someone’s favourite numbers, or even have a bolt cutter. The correct number in the series was always heavier to scroll into place. If you hung on the padlock you could practically feel it click into place and then adjust back and move down. A four digit padlock was no problem to get past, if given enough time that was. The bigger the lock, the easier it was to open, that’s irony for you, you’d think a bigger lock would be harder to bypass.

However, with his bad luck of lately, someone would definitely enter the locker room the very moment he’d try to. Or worse, Alex would walk in on him after he’d gotten it open and already being midway of going through his stuff.

 

He walked past locker ten and out the room.

No, he wouldn’t do that.

If he couldn’t figure it out without resorting to felony, he would either outright confront Alex himself, or go to Busybody.

 

It would appear he was the last one to arrive at the office. All three of his peers were already waiting at the table for him.

They were holding an extraordinary staff meeting for two reasons this day, they’d even had to come in one hour earlier to make time.

A meeting for two particular reasons.

First off; about future safety measures and where they had gone wrong yesterday. One of the younger children had barely escaped getting a disco ball fall on them. As harmless and almost silly as it sounded in theory, a fifteen kilo orb of mirror glass landing on a ten year old’s head was less so in reality.

And it had almost happened, had it not been for Alex.

If Robbie hadn’t been there to witness it himself, already running towards something even he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to prevent, he would not have believed what Alex had pulled off. He was still wrapping his head around how on earth the man had gotten from one end of the large room to the other to snatch the child out of the way, roll and put them down two meters from where the ball came crashing down in an explosion of glass.

Robbie was pretty sure there had been a one handed somersault involved.

 _That_. That was the type of reflexes you only saw on footage called _bro-_ , or _dad reflexes!_  Not in real life!

All because of a lack in routines, and an overpriced _toy_.

The reason for the ball coming down had been a drone, no bigger than his own hand that had been controlled by the kid called Pixel. The thing had gotten entangled in the suspension above and jostled it enough for the sling hook that held the ball there to pop open.

When they’d tried to encourage the boy to do more interactive activities with others than his handheld games, this wasn’t exactly what they had had in mind.

The boy in question had stood by the side surrounded by his friends, all of them slack jawed and impossibly wide eyed at what they had accidentally caused.

 

Make no mistake, there had been _words_ afterwards, and even more with their parents. A large portion of the day had then been for damage control, sweeping up all the glass and ensuring that the children involved were unharmed, physically and emotionally.

 

Penny played around with her tall glass of water after the recap of what they already knew all too well had transpired. “Where did he get that drone from anyway? It was so small, what was left of it anyway,” she said.

“They sell these things in any tech store, hell, any convenience store, nowadays,” Robbie replied.

A typical grocery list for the new average income family; milk, ham, rice, flying robot, cereal.

“So,” she said, “we will have to put up a sign that says, ‘ _no_ _drones!_ ’ along with the other bans?”

Busybody responded, “evidentially, yes, we will.”

Alex had something to add to the discussion as well. “I don’t think putting up a ban on drones inside the building would’ve helped much,” he said. “That ball was supposed to be tethered to a secondary security wire. Even with the drone getting tangled up in it, it shouldn’t had come down like that. The ball shouldn’t even have been up there in the first place. We used it in December, _it_ _’s March now_.”

Sighing and rubbing her brow, Busybody had to agree. “I will have to further elaborate the hazard report… And an investigation on why the secondary wire wasn’t there, or why internal services hadn’t taken the damn thing down yet. This is inexcusable of us.”

Robbie, who had always assumed that the seventies reject suspended in the ceiling had always been supposed to be up there, said nothing and resorted to nodding along with Penny and Alex.

 

Another deep sigh from Busybody, then, “if you want a refill, you better get it now, because this next topic will take some time.” Continuing after a beat, when it became clear that no one would leave their seat, she started again. “I’ve been speaking with the headmaster of the school and he’s noticed the increasing unrest and a rougher tone in general among the school’s pupils, as well as we’ve noticed here.”

 

And this was reason number two for their meeting.

 

“The staff there have reported that there have been sightings of unauthorized persons, older teens and young adults, within their premises. People that are, by all accounts, not pupils of that school.

True, there had been a rougher tone lately in just the latest month. Robbie wasn’t that bothered by swearing by the older visitors, it was normal. But, even he had to draw the line somewhere. There had been a lot of words of abuse and slurs that not even he could look past.

They were all agreeing on this.

She looked directly at him. “You go past the schoolyard the most of us. Anything you’ve taken notice of?”

“Uuh?” Oh jeez, all eyes were on him. “Nuh? No? Not, uh, by the hours _I_ pass by there, anyway.”

It added up though, that the source, of where Jives had gotten hold on drugs, would have to be the school district. Outsiders hanging around the school. It meant less people that’d recognise them, which made it easier to start shit, sell shit, or just loitering in general while waiting for a friend or two that did actually attend the school.

That’s how he had been _recruited_ after all. There was no other way to put it when looking at it in the rear-view window.

“Do we have any description of what they look like, Bessie,” Alex asked, “in case we’ll have to keep a look out as well?”

“Yes, I’ll forward it through your work mail,” she said.

She gave them the description that she already had close at hand. Young, between seventeen to twenty-one by estimation, dark clothes, pasty skinned Caucasian.

That helped them jack squat in Robbie’s opinion. That described about half of their regular teens.

One of the spotted outsiders had a distinct lip piercing however. Busybody had squinted at the paper and said with an uncertain voice, “ _snake bite?_ ”

Which then had resulted in having to explain different types of facial piercings.

 

Alex nodded and crossed his arms afterwards, looking all serious. “We should probably have Robbie go through the anti-drug learning course.”

Yeah great, he might’ve had some use of that when confronting Jives, yes! He was already waiting for when the next rounds of sign language courses would begin. He had on his own volition signed up for that. Ella had proven to be a little smartass that turned off her hearing aid whenever it pleased her. It had however made him aware that there might be others like her in the future.

“I think we all need a refresher, it’s about that time,” Busybody concluded.

Penny gave her a lopsided smile. There were a lot of smiles from her today, despite the gloomy dialog. “Are we going to have to bring out the twins?”

Robbie blinked. “The what now?”

“Anti-drug posters, they’re huge,” she explained.

“Eeh?”

Busybody said, “I don’t see why not. The older visitors might scoff, but having them here might send a message and reach those willing to listen. I’ll make a call to the Town Hall, then Alex and Robbie can fetch them.”

Seriously? Why him?

The pitying look Penny gave him told him all he needed to know. Oh, you _Judas_.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one finding Alex’s style of driving dicey.

“Very well then,” he folded. If Robbie was quick enough to get the car keys he might live to see another day.

Alex in question seemed gloriously ignorant of the silent exchange between his colleagues.

 

As soon as Busybody went into her own office, Robbie, all too willing to change the subject, had to ask Penny, “there’s something different about you today. Did you get a haircut?”

She looked downright ecstatic that he’d asked the question. So, he was right, she had done something. “Nope, try again” she declared.

She had blabbed on that she was going ice skating in the local indoor ice rink for her anniversary with her boyfriend… “Got laid?” he chanced.

She sputtered, “Robbie!” Though, her face gave away that the shock was only for show.

“What? It’s a legitimate question! You keep smiling like a loon and… Hang on.” He squinted at her. “It’s your mouth isn’t it?”

“I got my teeth bleached this morning.” Her smile split into an even wider grin, showing off her pearly whites, now when you knew what to look for.

Typical. “You could blind oncoming traffic with those choppers,” Robbie teased.

Alex, ever the killjoy, asked, “how much did you pay for it?” and leaned on his crossed arms.

“One hundred,” she said and jutted her chin out in defiance. “It was on discount.”

You could see the other man do the math in his head to compare it to whatever it was again they used in his home country. He didn’t seem to like the sum he came up with.

“You know you can’t have coffee now, right?” Robbie turned back to Penny. It would explain the glass of water she’d been toying with.

“Or tea, red wine, or juice,” she counted on her fingers, “did you know that fruit juice is bad for your teeth? It’s acidic and contains as much sugar as soda. There are more cases of tooth decay because parents encourage their kids to drink juice, believing it to be healthier.”

Robbie snorted. “I’m not even surprised. Maybe you should lay off the apples, Sportafruit?”

“Juice and solid fruit are different,” he defended. “Solid fruit contains fibre which juice doesn’t.”

“Yeah, right,” Robbie droned, letting the cynicism saturate the words. “Anyway,” he directed to Penny, “ _why_ did you do it?”

“C’mon, you guys are making such a big deal out of it. If there was something you could change about yourselves, you’d do it too.”

“I don’t think so,” Alex said a little too fast.

Easy for him to say, looking the way he did. And didn’t that make him a bit of a hypocrite? It was obvious that the man cared about his looks, otherwise he wouldn’t have any business looking like he’d escaped from a Men’s Health magazine and into reality.

 _‘Robbie, thy name is pent up sexual frustration_ ,’ he thought sardonically and commenced to stare into his, now cold, coffee instead. He might have a private investigation going on, but he couldn’t help himself. Never had been. Two months and he _still_ thirsted. Rude introduction, weird behaviour and the _syringe incident_ be damned.

“Really, nothing?” Penny challenged. “Braces? Nose job?”

That earned her the patented _eyeroll_ from the man, however, the remark did make Robbie take a second look at Alex. True, he had a prominent nose, roman some would say. But, it made his face all that more unique.

Yup, there was that frustration again.

God, he needed to get out more.

“Or taller. Though, they’d have to break your legs for that first.”

“Low blow, Penny,” Alex humoured her.

Robbie laughed, joining in on the subject of the man’s height. “Mother nature didn’t allow you getting any taller, so you started growing in muscle mass just to spite her?”

“It takes hard work and dedication, anything that can’t change through those means, you should learn to accept and love about yourself.”

Yeah, that sounded about similar to what they were telling the youths.

In a perfect world, they shouldn’t even need to have this discussion.

“What about you, Robbie?” Penny turned to him all of a sudden.

Him? Where should he begin? _A brain transplant?_ Alas, medical science was not quite there yet. “Chin reduction? My ears, probably?” he said. He had never been conventionally attractive, he knew that.

Any amusement left Alex’s own features. “There’s nothing wrong with how you look.”

Woah there. “Whatever, half pint.”

“See? And you two are harping on me getting rid of a couple of stains,” Penny drove her point home.

Alex did yet again roll his eyes. If he kept that up he might get stuck like that.

“As for Sporty being… _Slightly below average height_.”

Robbie wanted to protest there. _He_ was the one to have coined that expression. This was blatant plagiarism!

“I’m sure if we pooled our resources together we’d make it happen. I got a car. Sporty got a condo. And you?”

 _A condo_?

He hesitated. “A house and a bunch of ramshackle agricultural buildings?” How and when had this turned into a pissing contest of property and assets?!

 

There was a moment of silence at his words.

Oh god.

 

Brain transplants may be too science fictiony for modern medicine, but perhaps, he could save up enough to install a proper filter between his brain and mouth.

 

Her jaw dropped. “You… You’re a goddamn _landowner?!_ ”

Alex gave him a wide eyed look as well, earlier discussion forgotten and gone with the wind.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“Do you know how many hectares you got?” Alex asked.

He squirmed, the land was completely useless to him. He was no farmer nor forester. “I don’t see how that matters?”

“Robbie, how many?” he pressed on.

“Eight?”

“How much is that anyway?” Penny asked.

“Take the field outside and multiply it by ten,” Alex replied without letting his eyes off Robbie.

Her head snapped so fast back to him Robbie thought he heard something crack. “How did you afford _that?!_ ”

“Money from a relative’s life insurance,” he answered truthfully. Money long gone, and what he currently made, the house kept sucking out of his wallet as they spoke.

He’d bought it for the hovel that came with the land, because it was the bailiff auctioning out the place. Unlike normal real estate there were no background checks or talk about mortgages, as long as you could pay them up front in cash. The land was useless anyway, or the price would’ve been three doubled. Not even the municipal wanted it.

“How much is it worth?” Penny was leaning as far over the table as physically possible.

“None of your business,” Robbie said and leaned away from her in turn.

“Penny, stop it.” Alex took hold of her gently, yet firmly, and moved her back to her end of the table before she spilled her glass of water over it.

 

“Hum humm,” a voice sounded. They all turned to the door of Busybody’s office. “If you are done, they’re waiting for you at the Town Hall.

 

Robbie did not miss the look of enthusiasm as the two women joined close together and Busybody’s exclaim over Penny’s teeth. He was sure those two had a lot to talk about while Alex and he were gone.

 

Well downstairs, and outside the locker room waiting for Alex to get his stuff, a thought struck him.

 

One that was, disturbingly enough, starting to make sense. All based on Alex’s reaction earlier.

 

Anabolic steroids?

It was not too farfetched.

Let’s see. For starters, the guy had a former career in athletics, which would give him the channels necessary for requiring Tests, Roids, or whatever they called it nowadays.

Wanting to keep fit after his glory days? Probably.

He had seen as much after a quick check on his phone, because he was that pathetic. He hadn’t had time to translate what he had found into English though, but Busybody had been right. The guy had been an athletic, of which sort eluded him until he got an opportunity to do the translation.

Slimmer and lacking the moustache, but unmistakably his colleague. _That nose really did make his face unique._

A wish to improve physical appearance?

The man was, in comparison to the picture of the grinning young man on a podium, softer around the edges, broader and more compact with age.

Another probably, leaning hard on a yes.

Hard work and dedication, he had said. But, what if it wasn’t enough anymore?

There were more double faced preachers out there than you could shake a stick at. His late uncle had for sure been one of them. Though, uncle Glanni had been a particular piece of work. Capricious and full of nasty surprises, even after death, to the Rotten household’s aggravation.

Making the wayward nephew beneficiary of his life insurance sure was one hell of a way to stir up the hornet’s nest. Glanni hadn’t even liked Robbie, however, judging by things, he must’ve disliked the rest of the family way more.

 

And as double faced preacher’s say went; ‘ _Do as I say, not as I do._ ’

 

Yes, that rang a bell.

 

“Ready to go?”

Robbie held up the car keys. “Way ahead of you. And no, you’re not driving.”

 

Robbie had about half a mind to blow a raspberry at the receptionist at the Town Hall when he saw that it was the same sourpuss as when he’d had his interview there.

‘ _Yeah, keep looking asshole, you_ _’re going to see a whole lot more of me in the future,_ ’ he thought as he carried out one of the ridiculous metal poles for the stands. To make sure, he threw an extra glance back. Yup, still staring.  

 

Outside again he gathered enough courage. Now was about as good as any time. “Hey?”

“Yes?” Alex said before him, opening the trunk.

“I was just thinking, of what Penny said back at LazyTown, about changing yourself.”

That almost smile again, along with a raised brow that indicated for him to go on, wherever he was heading with this.

Trying to be nonchalant he continued, “I dunno, but I’m going to go on a hunch here and guess that you frequent the gym often, right?”

Alex gave him a positive, he did. Go figure.

“Then, are there any impromptu drug tests at your current gym? I’ve never seen the appeal in it. Your dick shrinks, acne, and you get tits instead.” He outright struggled with the poster stand now, feeing like an idiot. For multiple reasons.

Alex barked a laugh. “There are drug tests occasionally, whenever they spot someone they suspect are on steroids, if that’s what you’re referring to.” He took Robbie’s burden and put it against the side. “And no, it’s not the dick, it’s the testicles shrinking.”

“Huh,” Robbie voiced and helped him wrangle the first rod into the back of the hatchback. The man did know how to say crude words in English after all.

 

There was a moment of humility when they realised that the stand worked as a periscope and that they could’ve shortened it significantly.

 

Back inside the car, Alex continued on his own accord, “it’s cheating. And it’s dangerous.”

“Then why do it?” Why would he do it? _If_ he did it.

“To get in shape faster or the other positive side effects. It’s rarely the ones you’d suspect.”

There were other benefits? “So, not the huge jacked guy grunting like an ox by the free weights then?”

“If it is, then they’re probably on more than just steroids.” Alex gave him a worried look. “Are you sure this isn’t about more than what Penny talked about?”

“Ergh, I was just wondering. All that talk, you know.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with how you look, Robbie. But, if you want to, I could take you to the gym I go to. If you want to get in better shape. And only if you want to though.”

Oh no, no, no, no, _no!_ Not what he had in mind _at all!_ “The day I wilfully set foot inside a gym, hell has frozen over.”

“You know,” he said and turned on the turn signal, and it was at that horrifying moment Robbie realised he’d been so preoccupied in their conversation that he’d let Alex drive them back, “old Nordic mythology has it that hell is a frozen wasteland.”

Robbie took hold of the grab handle. “Still not happening.”

Well, this had gotten him nowhere if he should confirm or debunk his theory. And on top of it all, now he had to fear that he would find out whether if hell was made out of fire or ice faster than anticipated.

 

He didn’t.

Surprisingly enough, Alex seemed to be more mindful this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex is referring to Niflheimr, or simply just Hel btw.  
> (Fuck u Marvel)


	9. Sportacus has a bad day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady fortuna doesn't play favourites.  
> As for favourites... Jives keeps bad company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions and references to slurs and homophobic bs, also a busted restroom.

Was anyone else picking up on that air of hostility? No? Just him then?

So far, his gut feeling had never betrayed him, it had kept him alive and relatively unscathed on more than one occasion throughout the years.

It was, it would appear, still fully intact.

Because it was going off like crazy right now.

 

He sat in the lone chair inside the kiosk and rested his head in his hands as he leaned on his elbows on the counter. Anyone glancing over at him would believe him to be bored out of his mind, blissfully unaware that his brain, along with his heartrate, was racing one mile a minute, keeping the people of interest within his peripheral vision without being too obvious about it.

 

For the umpteenth time, he cursed himself. It was just his awful luck that he’d left his phone inside his locker, or he could’ve casually called the office upstairs to get someone to the front of the centre.

He was the only adult there. And he was, for lack of better words, trapped. Oh, he could leave, nothing was physically holding him there, but, not without raising suspicion or leaving the cash register unguarded and ready for the taking, with or without a key.

His colleagues were outside chaperoning some kids kicking ball and what not, and Busybody had isolated herself in her office, playing puzzle with their personal requests for summer vacation for the meantime.

Where the hell were all the random people of volunteers when you needed them?!

He wasn’t alone there per se. Jives was there.

That all in and of itself wasn’t that out of the ordinary. The kid had been coming in every now and then to say hi and use some of the centre’s features. Staying true to his word. Not that Robbie could control what the teen did in his spare time outside of the youth centre.

 

Only, thing was, that this time, Jives wasn’t alone either.

He’d brought friends.

And Robbie didn’t like the look of said friends and was the whole reason why he felt trapped.

 

Jives was wedged in the inner side of their booth against the window by one rather big guy, while two others were sitting opposite of them, every now and then his eyes would flick towards Robbie, gauging his reaction.

As for the three friends of his... Naturally, the idea of the usually lone kid having other people outside their known circle of visitors to hang out with was a good one, but these individuals rubbed him the wrong way.

Not to be biased, but they looked a whole deal like the description he’d been given a few weeks ago to keep a look out for. Dark chromatic streetwear, young adults, and… No, they just set off a whole bunch of alarms and where the hell was Penny and Alex?!

 

Robbie was ever grateful that Ella was in dance class on Fridays and all the other younger kids were already outside.

 

Once again, he cursed himself for leaving his phone behind.

Normally, he’d leave the kiosk whenever he had to be somewhere else. However, as his very first thought had been when the group had _slouched_ in, if he did so, he didn’t believe that the inventory or the cash register would go untouched.

He knew that opportunistic look.

 

Seriously, where were everyone?

 

Jives laughed at something being said.

After a while, the group was playing cards and he himself started to relax a bit.

Then one of them decided to leave the booth and approach him.

 _So much for that_.

To make it worse, it was the one he figured was the head of the group. Not the smallest or the biggest of them, but the one that spoke the most and used the biggest gestures. He had that air of superiority to him over the small troop.

The youth had had his back turned to the kiosk the whole time, so Robbie hadn’t been able to get a good look at him, up until now, and he couldn’t say that he was all that impressed with what was advancing.

His skin was pale and pasty, dark murky eyes under a black beanie pulled low over the forehead, assumingly hiding more skin impurities. “A tropical,” he said, voice rough and demanding. Robbie just so managed to not outright wrinkle his nose at the stink of stale cigarettes and bad breath hitting him.

Boy must be a real hit with the ladies.

“ID,” he replied in a curt single word. He might as well have said no.

And, based on the reaction, he had. The young adult, he gathered, bristled before he put up a shoddy front of aloofness. “Bro, I’m _twenty_.”

Just within their maximum age limit, so Robbie couldn’t kick him out for being too old, pity that. He couldn’t tell someone to leave solely on the grounds that he didn’t like the look of them.

“ _Bro_ ,” he replied, putting empathise on the term, he was certainly _not that_ and especially not _his,_  “I don’t care.” When in need, hide behind jurisdictions. “Those are the rules. We don’t sell to anyone under sixteen.”

“The fuck? Do I look like I’m fifteen to you?” he flared.

He didn’t. He was short and wiry, but he for certain was no baby face.

And if it was true…

He barely so managed to not look over to Jives, who was already watching their interaction in mild alarm as a result of the raised voice.

 

_Why the fuck would a twenty year old hang out with a sixteen year old?_

 

Younger kids would often seek out older youths and put them on a pedestal. That did, however, not go both ways.

Not normally.  

 

They stared at each other, well, glared was the more appropriate description.

 

Hold up. Hold. The fuck. Up.

Holes.

The young adult had a bad case of acne as it was, thanks to smoking and never having been introduced to the concept of a regular shower, and it made it hard to first distinguish, but there they were, blatant this up close as they were glaring at each other. Too perfectly symmetrical to be anything else, two empty piercing holes under his lower lip on each side of his mouth, red and irritated probably as a direct result of the failing hygiene, bad enough that he’d had to take out the rings that had been described in their mailing.

 

Shit, shit, shit! He had been right all along!

Where were everybody else!?”

Sound the goddamn alarm. Never had he been so viciously desiring a silent panic button underneath the counter. He was right, these were the unidentified _outsiders_ that had been hanging around the school district.

 

He should’ve been an actor. Masking his heart palpitation, he said in a calm upturned voice, “without any ID to back that up, I can’t sell you energy drinks.” Okay, so he might be petty as well, the smartest thing would probably be to say something along the lines of, ‘ _oh silly me, of course young sir, here is your chilled beverage_.’ “You can buy anything else,” he said instead.

The look he received was pure poison.

Grumbling, he bought a can of coke and a small bag of chips.

 

Robbie did not quite catch the words as the young adult slid back into the booth, but he was certain of what he’d heard him call him. It rhymed with _maggot_.

A round of laughter. Jives’ oval face twitched in a nervous and abashed expression, along with an equal nervous smile.

He felt sick to his stomach. He did _not_ want them there.

 

The asshole with the infected piercings had decided to channel his anger at the refusal of service by verbal abuse it would seem.

A closed hand gesture against his mouth, a round of louder laughs by them all, but, the alarmed look Jives threw his way afterwards only confirmed what Robbie already knew it was.

 

He watched them as they resumed their game of cards.

 

Here was a dilemma; initially, the right thing would be to tell them to leave the premises, bag and baggage. He had enough cause to back up that decision.

However, if they were the ones that had provided the drugs and the source of unrest at the school, then having them here in LazyTown was the very last thing Robbie wanted. Either Jives had suggested that they’d hang out there since he frequented there often enough, or, they had shown an interest in the place on their own, and that was worse.

They could not have them put down stakes here where they could influence and attract a new crowd!

This was their chance to have the individuals of the group identified at last, apprehended even.

When had his life come to this?

Looking up. Above the counter was a pull down shutter. It had, as far as Robbie knew and had been working there, never been used during their open hours. It was a show of trust between them and the visitors to leave the kiosk unattended, stupid as it may be, but so far it had actually worked.

Pulling it down before he left would alarm the regulars that something was amiss, and as much as Robbie wanted the group to leave, by force even, he needed them to stay a little bit longer, if Jives caught onto that Robbie was acting out of the ordinary the group might scatter before Robbie could alert the others that they had the people of interest here on visit.

 

It seemed that he needn’t have to bother, it came undone before any course of action had fully formed. The big one that had been sitting by Jives side, nodded at something and put down his hand of cards to go outside, catching a tossed lighter before he left.

Out for a smoke.

Robbie’s meter for trouble went up a notch however, when the one on the opposite side left as well in a similar fashion and heading deeper inside the facility.

The restrooms he saw, oh thank god.

This left only two in the booth. The bag of chips pushed over the table for Jives to take some.

‘ _Chips, nothing more, calm down,_ ’ he thought to himself.

The other glanced over his shoulder. And when he spotted Robbie, he grinned.

Well, so much for his plan to be subtle.

Something was definitely up.

 

To hell with the cash register.

 

He was about to lock it and face the consequences.

Aaand there he was.

Could’ve decided to grace them with his presence a long time ago!

 

Coming inside, Alex threw a questioning glance over at the occupied booth as he passed, even he could sense that there was something iffy, or he would’ve greeted Jives without a second thought, and walked towards Robbie. Probably to ask about how things were going inside. Oh, Robbie would tell them how things were going. Not great at all, verging on catastrophic.

Instead he hissed, barely constraining himself to take hold of the other man’s collar and yank him over the counter, “go to the restrooms. _Now_.”

“Wha-”

Words were failing to mediate what his racing mind was blabbering. “Persona non gratas. Lip piercing description we got.” _Take a goddamn hint!_

 A loud crash and yelling.

“Too late,” he groaned and hung his head.

 

They had caught the asshole that broke the handicap toilet’s sink.

It had been on accident, on two accounts. First; breaking it didn’t appear to be part of the hooligan’s plan and he’d been momentarily stunned from the fall, enough for two; for Alex to swoop in and hold him down just outside the restroom when he’d staggered out and where a pool of water was growing at an alarmingly fast rate, in a grip he’d only seen, and experienced, by law enforcement. Huh, guess you learned that at youth’s assisted housing if the juveniles got too rowdy.

 

The rest of the group had scattered, as predicted, like rats.

 

He knew that the potential had always been there. Alex was a muscly guy and yes, Robbie had from the get go been daunted, despite the other being a good fifteen or so centimetres shorter than him. But, the reality of it was still staggering. Alex was absolutely _terrifying_ when he wanted to look intimidating.

Getting hold of internal services and the janitor took longer than the police. That had to say something, not sure what, but he’d come up with it eventually.

“Why didn’t you call for any of us?” Alex asked after the officers had arrived to take the offender off their hands and for them to give their statement. His front and his jeans were dark from the water and clung to him after having the squirming youth pinned down.

Seriously? _How dare?!_ “One, I don’t have your number, save for Busybody’s. Two, I left my phone in the locker.” He tried his damnest not to scream in his face.

“Where were the volunteers?”

“ _You tell me?!_ ” So much for trying to keep his voice low. It was enough to get the man off his back though.

“Outside, with the rest of us.” Penny came up to them, having, along with Busybody, seen to that the visitors had left after giving their own statements and that they’d shut the establishment early for the day. A lot of fuzz for a broken sink, but Robbie did most certainly not complain. She turned to Alex. “Robbie was practically the only one on the floor.”

Another breach in routines and safety policy. Go figure.

“And there you have it,” Robbie said. If his voice was dripping with cynicism, then so be it. He was too tired to care.

She looked shamefaced and uncharacteristically timid. Robbie wondered what he looked like himself. Somewhere between his colleagues perhaps. Busybody was off the scale furious and they all stayed clear, even Alex in his miffed state. “Bessie got hold on internal services, they’ve stopped the water and the police is done in there,” Penny added.

Robbie had yet to examine the property damage, no thanks to the spray of water jetting towards the entrance. All he’d gotten a glance of had been a whole lot of crude graffiti. “Let’s see what the worm managed to do.”

 

Alex was the first of them to survey the distressing state and came back out. The best way to describe his expression, was that an iron shutter curtain had gone down behind his blue eyes. Weird.

“Alright, let me have a looksie.” There was that morbid fascination, and a chunk of masochism as well, of seeing the damage done.

“Robbie, I don’t think you should,” he said and put an arm out.

Nope, not a good sign.

And the fact that Alex didn’t want him to see it made him all the more determined to look upon it with his own eyes.

He easily ducked out of the arm’s reach and entered the handicap toilet.

Avoiding the water as best as he could, thank god it was the basin and not the toilet itself that had broken, or it would've been even worse, he beheld the chaos.

Robbie would have to say, he was a bit impressed. In under ten minutes the brat had made the formerly okay looking restroom look like it had gone through a rough year as a common public toilet downtown.

Trash everywhere, broken off parts of anything that could be broken off. Any surface within reach defaced and covered in black marker depicting a lot of crude genitals and slurs.

If he stood in front of the mirror and bent his knees just so, he reckoned that it would get his chest aligned with the crass breasts and the equal tasteless speech bubble of ‘ _Whore!_ ’ next to his head. _Real classy_. Extra points for artistry there.

There were scribbles up in the roof as well.

A quick calculation made him come to the conclusion that the asshole had climbed the sink in order to reach up there and then the basin had given way under his weight. It added up.

He didn’t understand what and why Alex was making such a big deal out of. Yes, it was a disgrace and it would take time to clear up, not to mention replacing almost everything.

He had a witty comment waiting on his tongue when he turned to the entrance, that he was sure of. It, however, died before he got to fully form it. Turning back to the doorway he saw it on the wall to the right of the doorframe.

 

That was supposed to be him, wasn’t it?

 

Alex was standing in the open doorway, Penny looking questionably over his shoulder to understand what was going on. “Robbie…”

“I think they were a bit liberal with my eyelashes and ass,” he said.

Another brownie point for artistry. If he got some one on one time with the goon he would punch him in the face, repeatedly. And with good cause.

Taken aback, he gaped at the response. That had obviously not been what he’d expected. “You, you’re _okay_ with this?” he sputtered, the stony mask slipping. “You’re not bothered?!”

What the ever-loving type of reaction was _that?!_

Was his own lack of response really causing such a fuss for the other man?!

Robbie would not, _could not_ , let this bother him!

He didn’t stick around to watch Penny’s reaction, heading to give his statement so he could go home that much quicker.

 

Giving his own statement to the police had been another bag of soul crippling fun.

Hand on heart, he’d never thought that he’d be the one to _help_ the police.

Ten years ago, _he_ would’ve been the one defacing the restroom and taken more creative liberties in how to cause ruin.

They were just about rounding off the statement and to leave them to deal with cleaning up the mess. “Do you think you could identify them if you saw them again?” a woman in uniform asked, flipping through her note pad with pages of abbreviations.

“Yes… But…”

He regretted it already, he didn’t want to do this, but, he had to tell them.

“You should ask Jives Junkfood about their identities.” He’d looked up the boy’s full name for this.

Not that the kid would nark on his _friends_ , lest he’d risk repercussions if he did. Snitchers got their heads beaten into a pulp, that was the reality of it all. The three youths were most likely a small faction within a bigger gang, Mr. Irritated piercings didn’t exactly strike him as playing with the big boys, wanting to, yes, and working his way up, or was it down in this case? But, was probably too ill-tempered and immature to do so yet.

Considering that this was the result of a fucking can of energy drink.

And here came the part that stung the worst; Alex had drifted near enough to hear him.

His head jerked up. “ _Jives?_ ” he questioned.

Oh, for crying out loud. Alex had, with his own two eyes, seen the boy sitting with one of the assholes.

But, there were things one just didn’t want verified, he supposed.

The officer, oblivious to the personal betrayal unravelling right under her nose, asked, “do you believe that he’s a person of interest?” A rhetorical question. He already was.

“He didn’t do it himself personally, but,” watching the confused expression turn into dismay, then anger, on his colleague’s face as he continued, “they were pretty buddy-buddy, he probably knows who they are by name.” He decided to add, “I don’t think he knew what was going on inside the toilet though.” Whatever good that titbit did.

Judging by Alex’s expression, the damage was already done.

And off the police had gone. Probably to go knocking on Ms. Junkfood’s door to ask about her son and if he was home, because they’d like to have a _chat_ with him.

Alex excused himself, something about cleaning, and with his face gone stony again. He’d known the kid for five years, or at least he’d thought he’d known him, Robbie had only an inkling of what that felt like.

 

One thing was starting to become blaringly obvious however. The universe appeared to hold a grudge against their blond Icelander.

 

Robbie often fancied that he was cursed with bad luck. However, taking the events of this awful Friday into consideration, he was starting to think that it was Alex that had pissed off Lady Fortuna for a change.  

Because this day wasn’t bad enough as it was, it had to get worse.

 

Wanting to keep busy and stay away from Alex while he processed the reality of what sort of company the boy kept, Robbie had rounded up the trash to take to be recycled. And, maybe he was buying himself some time as well to process things. He stepped outside into the late spring air and…

“Ah, hell,” he sighed when he took in what he saw before him.

 

So _that_ _’s_ what the second goon had been up to.

 

He found him mopping the affected area. “Uhm, Alex,” he tapped his shoulder to get his attention, “I think you need to see this. It’s your bike.”

 

In hindsight, it was the perfect spot. To the side of the building with few to no people passing by and the garbage room blocking any view from that end, making the staff entrance perfectly boxed in and isolated.

When he hadn’t been able to steal the bike, thanks to the chain-cable it was still secured with, he’d decided to wreck it just to fuck with them.

He’d been a big guy and it looked like he had been stomping on the back wheel with his full weight repeatedly as well as obliterate the derailleur. The thing was busted. There was no other way to put it.

 

Alex let out a long string of curses Robbie had never thought the man being capable of, and that was only the half of it in English that he understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At my former uni someone broke the toilet in one of the main buildings for shits and giggles, I'm still trying to figure out how he did it. The water damage was excessive and it didn't help that the café was on the floor directly underneath...  
> After that we installed card readers for our staff and student ID. 
> 
> As of rn at my current uni, there's a growing issue with unauthorized people entering restricted areas to start shit and other 'fun' things, to the point of starting a debate of whether or not we should have Securitas in public places such as the libraries.  
> Fun times.


	10. Hard Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A desperation of getting the other to come clean backfiring spectacularly for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Midsummer!
> 
> Anyway, the condo...  
> I have opinions about the interior of the airship, and Scandinavian achromatic minimalism AND every male friend's flat I've ever visited!!!

Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Penny asked Alex once again, leaning out of the open window of her car. “I’m sure that if we move the front seats enough we’d fit your bike.” She drove a sedan. It would be a tight fit, but the totalled bike _would fit_.

It wasn’t like they could do more damage to it anyway.

And like all other offers of helping him get his bike home, he didn’t budge. “I appreciate it, I do, really, but I’ll be fine.”

Busybody had given a similar offer earlier, her own mini was out of the question, however, Meanswell’s car was both big enough, _and_ had a tow bar with a bicycle holder. Robbie wondered if the tow bar was the result of the car being of an older model, or if the mayor had made a conscious decision to invest in it. Though, by Busybody’s colourful depiction of him, the man was not a handy one, which could only mean that they were, urk, ‘ _trailer vacationers_ ’. The sensible offer had been turned down with the explanation that by the time they’d get her partner over, Alex could’ve already had taken it home on his own. That argument was a reasonable one and Busybody had left to check up on Stephanie.

But by now, the humility was borderlining on sheer pig-headedness in Robbie’s opinion, and judging by the huff and shake of her head, Penny agreed with him.

 

Naturally, his own suggestion to leave the bike until a later date, or store it inside ‘til then, fell on deaf ears.

 

Driving off, Penny left the two men standing outside the staff entrance. Sure, go offer Alex a ride, but not Robbie. Not that he’d asked, but it would’ve been nice to be asked if they could take him to the central bus station. He kicked some gravel. He’d missed his bus and would be forced to wait another hour until the next one came around, and it looked like it was going to start raining. Well, felt like it anyway, the sky was pitch black and told him nothing by sight.

The establishment may have closed earlier, unfortunately that did not mean that they’d get to go, not until they’d cleaned up and had their own damage assessment done, and that had dragged out longer than any of them had thought or wanted.

 

He was about to say his farewell and start his reluctant trudge over to the other side of the field when he saw Alex, with his back turned to him, lift the bike with a grunt.

“Are you seriously going to drag it the whole way home?” It was blaringly obvious that, yes, that was what he was going to do.

“I don’t live far from here, don’t worry,” he said dismissively as he tried to hoist the upper tube of the frame over the bend of his arm. You couldn’t even distribute some of the weight onto the front wheel. Maybe not heavy, not by the other man’s standards, but he’d barely taken two steps and the front turned in on itself, hindering any practical means of transporting the wreck.

 

Yeah, no.

 

Robbie could’t say what exactly it was that came over him. It could either be because he had missed his bus and the idea of sitting around in a cold drafty bus shelter was not an appealing one.

Or, it was the fact that the man looked pathetic, enough that he pulled a series of grimaces in aggravation and stepped up behind him to lighten up the load so Alex could keep the damn thing from slipping away, or god forbid, puncture a lung.

The man jolted at the shift in surprise. “You don’t have to-” he began protesting.

“ _Shut up_ ,” wow, that first part sounded like his dad, “ _and_ _accept the help_ ,” he snapped back. The perks of not playing this game of unnecessary front of respecting bashfulness and personal pride. He was tired and cranky, and would not put up with this farce any longer.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be alone to dwell on today’s events.

To his credit, he didn’t further protest and instead adjusted his grip on the frame and handlebars to let Robbie take hold of the seat post and the bent back wheel.

“Thank you.”

He merely grunted in reply.

 

If Robbie had been hoping for some type of distraction by conversation, then he’d been wrong, not that he was that surprised, and frankly, he didn’t feel like talking anyway. They remained mute save for when they had to stop and adjust their respective grips. All the time he was left with nothing better than to bore a hole in the back of the other’s head and occasionally take in his surroundings so that he wouldn’t be too hopelessly lost on his way back.

Not living far from their work, yeah right. Liar liar pants on fire. Or, as in their case, stained in oil from the derailleur and the broken chain that would every now and then sway and brush up against them.

If it wasn’t for a familiar bus stop he’d spotted on their journey, he’d be certain that he’d miss his next bus too.

Unfortunately, Robbie’s premonition about the weather had turned out to be correct. Within seconds, a light drizzle took on biblical proportions.

“Are you kidding me?!” he shouted. His new jacket could withstand it, however his makeup and hair did not have that luxury.

“We’re almost there,” the up until now stoic man spoke as he hunched his head down against the watery onslaught. And for once, it wasn’t an understatement. They only needed to round the corner and Alex explained that the very high building in grey concrete was where he lived.

They were creating a mess in the main entrance and its marble floor. “Please don’t tell me you live on the top floor.”

“No, the top floor is the storage, and the lift doesn’t go all the way up there.” Robbie gulped, no way in hell they were dragging the bike all the way up there, and he should inform that that made it the attic, not a top floor, “but it’s full so I’ll have to take it to my apartment anyway.”

Alex rubbed his chin and put the other hand to rest on his hip in thought. The man’s moustache had proven being quite resistant to the weather condition. He was a little jealous, his pomade was starting to track down his forehead.

“What?” He wasn’t exactly keen on heading out into the downpour until he necessarily had to.

“I think I’ll need your help with the lift,” he explained.

Okay, Robbie could do that.

“It won’t fit both of us and the bike… If you ride it, then I’ll take the stairs and meet you up on the seventh floor.”

He was going to climb the stairs all that way?! “That _is_ the top floor!” he protested as the steel doors closed. Groaning, he punched in the highest number, it wouldn’t even surprise him if the man used the stairs regularly anyway.

The reality hit him; that he would get to see how the man lived. It was probably full of sport equipment, he’d bet.

 

The man was barely out of breath when he eventually got up there. That was wrong on so many levels. One did not climb, no, scratch that, _run_ seven flights without making the impression of having severe asthma. Fit or not!

 

The door’s sign said, ‘ _A. Magnusson_ ’, lacking the apostrophe as he unlocked it and took up his end at the front again.

“So, this is me,” Alex declared, ducking his head. Robbie had to blink and had his hands been free he’d rub his eyes just to make sure he was seeing right.

 

Had they taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up back at their office?

 

First thing to greet you was a built in armoire of fogged glass to the left and ahead a white wall that disrupted looking straight into the condo, and following inside to put the bike down he took in the sight of the open space.

Could someone say, ‘ _stereotypical bachelor_ ’?

There were no colours save for the pale hint in the parquet floor. Not even the notorious blue that the man seemed to favour. Three evenly paced white doors to the right, and then to the direct left they stepped into a posh kitchen with its dark countertop and white cabinets set against the backside of the wall of the hall, a French balcony looking out over the street, along with a good chunk of the town from this height he gathered, and a bowl with fruits rebelling against the black and white theme on top of a small dining table. The general vast space was divided by one of those white room dividing bookshelves with its lower half with boxes and the upper one nearly empty. A TV could be spotted mounted on the facing wall, but that was the extend of that side of the living space he could clearly see.

Though, it was far brighter than the stereotype, with its white walls and the blue rug he did now catch sight of through the openings of the shelf, this here was the reason why there were unjust complaints about men not knowing how to decorate beyond the grey scale!

The owner of the achromatic home appeared unknowing of Robbie’s gawking. “Usually I’d ask you to take off your shoes, but there’s no point in that.” True, they were near sopping wet from their short stint to the main entrance and the bike was already tracking dirt. The man was obviously uncomfortable, and he drifted towards the counter and cabinets. “I’d like to offer you something as thanks, but I don’t think I have anything that you can consume, or that you’d like anyway… I have water, but…”

“If you’re offering me plain tap water as thanks, then keep it.”

Alex chuckled tiredly. “I thought you’d say that.” He looked to him. “When do you need to get to your bus stop? Let me lend you an umbrella at least.”

This was awkward.

“Thanks… Uhm,” he had to know though, “how long have you lived here?”

“Oh, uh,” he leaned against the counter and touched the back of his head, “four years.”

Four years. Four years, and it looked as immaculate and soulless as a design catalogue. “It’s… _Nice_.” He eyed a wall clock. “Well, I’ll take you up on that offer on the umbrella and see myself out.”

He could tell that the man wanted to be alone, he’d known so back at work when Alex had turned down any and all offer of help, but he had put his own need to not sit and sulk above his colleague’s need. It had been a lot for the man to take in after the vandalization of the restroom and he’d, as Robbie suspected he would from back when he himself had discovered the youth’s pastime activity, not taken it too well. The man wasn’t the most talkative to begin with, but this was extreme even for him.

“Robbie, wait,” he halted him from leaving the kitchen area, “did you know that Jives was hanging out with those guys?”

A fair question. He owed him this much. “I suspected it when Bessie told us about the sightings at the school district,” he answered truthfully.

“You… Suspected?” Alex furrowed his brow and switched to stand directly in front of him, however not cutting off his escape route or being up in his personal space, so there was always that.

“I caught him being under the influence in the centre.” This was going to get ugly, he just knew it. “Alex, he wasn’t groggy from an _all-nighter_. He was high.”

Something dark passed over his face before he spoke, “the test… Robbie, that was almost a month ago! Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Not _us_ as in the full crew, but _me_ , as in Alex personally.

“I am now, aren’t I?” God, how should he put this? “I was going to when I caught him.”

“I can’t believe this. There are guidelines and procedure for what to do if we find any of our visitors being impaired by alcohol or other drugs.” Which you learnt through the courses, and of which none he had yet participated in.

“I worked with what I had at hand. I made him promise to come back sober and never turn up in that state ever again, or there would be consequences. It worked didn’t it?” Up until Jives had let his friends tag along that was.

“That’s not how we do things, you can’t keep something like that to yourself. You should have told me.”

Except Robbie had had good reason not to bring it up. That incident that he still couldn’t figure out and would not leave him be. “Isn’t that hypocritical of you?”

That seemed to throw him off his balance, peering up at him with apprehension. “How?” He took a step back from him, Robbie realised that they had drifted up in each other’s space until that.

“The reason I didn’t tell you,” he shot his arms out now that he could, “is because when I was about to, I walked in on you _waving around a syringe_ in the locker room! So, yeah, I’m calling you a hypocrite. _You_ tell me what to think?!”

That did the trick.

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, unable to form words and completely stunned at his confession and its implications.

“Robbie,” he managed after a while, “I’m diabetic.”

If he was going to lie, then at least he could try to be a bit more original about it. “Bull.” He gesticulated towards Alex’s form in an inverted triangle, trying to mediate the other’s waist to shoulder ratio.

Without a word, Alex went to open one of the upper cupboards and shoved a glass flask in Robbie’s hand.

He scrutinised the item. ‘ _Insulin Human Injection 100 IU/ML_ ’ it read in bold letters on the label.

 

Well, shit.

 

Robbie was, at the end of the day, a complete and utter idiot.

 

Alex took the flask from him and stuffed it back where it belonged. Though, he was far from over. His gaze off slightly to the side as he started up again, “that’s why you were asking me about the gym, I thought you were... But… Why would you think I was using and… If, if,” rubbing his mouth and chin in a troubled manner, “you thought I was, then why didn’t you go to Bessie?” He didn’t exactly pace but his movements were agitated. “Wait,” he turned to him, “did you think you were covering for me? _The same way you did with Jives?_ ”

 

Oh hell no. Was _that_ the conclusion he came to? Instead of agreeing that he maybe should have shared this vital part of information with Robbie, he’d decided to _accuse_ _him?!_

 

“I was _not!_ I did _not_ cover for _your ass!_ ” This was one fine mess. “And, I know absolutely jack squat about you! I have no idea who you are, besides being a _fucking oppressor!_ Anything little I do know is through the others! So, yeah, you haven’t exactly given me _reason_ to think differently!”

The man before him drew his mouth in a thin bloodless line of displeasure and Robbie continued, unable to stop himself even if he’d wanted to.

“I don’t know what your issue is with me. But, obviously _you_ don’t trust me enough to tell me something like this.” The man had been _hiding_ his condition from him. _That_ _’s why_ Robbie had instinctively thought that something hinky was going on, why he hadn’t outright confronted him so that they could’ve avoided the whole situation. And, yes, the option of going to Busybody about what he’d seen had been on the table, but he’d never come further than; ‘ _I think I saw Alex shooting up in the locker room, and no this has nothing to do with everyone thinking that we_ _’re in a fight constantly_ ’ in ways of articulacy.

This was the result of weeks of frustration bubbling up. Weeks of not knowing what he was doing there at the centre in the first place, or what his treatment of the day would be on his way to work. Weeks, _months_ of it.

“Apparently, there was no one else to hire, so you got me, I’m terribly sorry about that.” He remembered Busybody’s reaction to his makeup and despite big talk of openness and acceptance, they were all, every single one of them, conveniently white. “What the hell am I to you all? Your mascot for _diversity_? Maybe next time you’re looking to hire you should widen your horizon, if I’m such an eyesore!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Alex raised his voice to end Robbie’s tirade. “You’re _not_.”

“ _Then what is it?!_ ” he screeched. He hoped that one of the asshole’s neighbours would file a complaint. Taint his perfect score in some way.

“I’ve seen your report and what security at Town Hall found in your background check. I told Bessie to hire you based on _that_.”

 

He _what_?

 

Robbie’s mouth shut with an audible snap, visibly jerking away and hitting his shoulder on the edge to the hallway. “You… But… _You knew about that?_ ”

“Who do you think gave the green light to hire you?”

“You,” he didn’t know what he should say, there were many strong candidates, “you _knew?_ ” he repeated himself.

“Of course I knew. She wanted to know how I’d feel about you starting and my professional opinion.” He sat down on the edge of the table, his eyes looking at anything but him. “I had hoped that your background would be an asset,” sounding bitter as he added, “but, I guess I was wrong.”

He might as well have punched him in the gut. So that was why Alex had been like that towards him. He knew what Robbie had done, what he was, and he had been silently judging him. “Who else knows?” Did Penny know? Did _everyone_ involved in the youth centre know about him?

“Only the head of security, Bessie and I.”

Robbie’s life was a bad joke.

Was it too outlandish to think, that any sporadic sign of comradery he’d thrown his way had been nothing, but the result of Bessie telling him off? No, it wasn’t. The timeline added up.

None of them said anything, it was killing him.

Robbie saw the time on the clock. He needed to head to the bus stop, or he’d be stuck for another hour.

He’d rather jump out of that French balcony than spending one more second there.

“I need to go.”

“Robbie...” he started when he stumbled backwards to the apartment door.

He didn’t look back as he said curtly, “see you on Monday.” He did however slam the door as hard as he could and found small satisfaction in that. The elevator had gone down to another floor and he ran down the complex’s stairs before the other man got the idea to re-emerge. His grip on the railing was the only thing that kept him from fully falling when he slipped on the steps and clung to it to pull himself up, the spike of adrenaline barely fazing him, and he continued.

 

Alex could go to hell. He could fuck straight off.

 

He was absolutely soaking wet when the bus came by and a cold shivering mess the whole ride. He looked awful when he saw his own reflection in the dark glass. Face near devoid of all colour with all mascara having migrated to under his eyes, leaving his eyes bare and lashes pale, save for his red glassy eyes. He could always blame that on the rain too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to cut this bs out where I let the boys have at each other and hurt, but I just can't help myself, you know.  
> And I obviously couldn't decide whether to use the word lift/elevator so I just went with dividing terms and expressions between them as I usually do when I encounter measurements.


	11. Old Reformed Villans, Young Contrite Delinquents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie tries to do the right thing a third time, whether it's better or worse for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Robbie's old transgressions are brought to light in this chapter.

He desperately needed to go grocery shopping. He had initially planned to do it on Saturday as per usual, but the fiasco that had gone down that Friday had knocked him for a loop and he’d spent that day wallowing in justified self-pity and working off three quarters of a bottle with caramel cream liqueur. It would have been a whole, but that was all he had in the house. Not to speak of how revolting it tasted at the end. Apparently, there was too much of a good thing.

In more than one sense.

This had left him with being forced to drag his ass out the door for groceries on Sunday, when the sparse public transport was even fewer, but he needed to eat.

He should probably stock up on dry goods and mixes for the future. Oh, he knew that he had a decent protection of employment, but after years of balancing on the poverty line, slightly above it when it was good and vice versa, had taught him to possess the caution he’d lacked as a youth, and this, was the best as it had ever gotten. Save for when Glanni’s ticker had given up, his own heart seeming fed up with the crooked man as well. Sometimes he wondered if the old man’s motive had been for Robbie to squander it all in one go. He was probably rolling around in his grave at what he had done with the money instead. Going for the respectable route.

Then again, he _had_ squandered it and Glanni was now cackling at him from the beyond, for his honest attempt, and resulting failure, at financial security.

 

If this noon was anything to go by, this felt like the premonition of a philosophical day. He hated those.

 

As it turned out, it was, well, _some sort of_ day of impact.

 

It was by pure chance alone that he spotted the green beanie and yellow hoodie outside, he could’ve just as well have looked in another direction or at his phone and missed the sight of the gangly teen sitting on a wooden bench by the sidewalk as they passed.

_Jives!_

He hit the stop button repeatedly. “Drop me off, drop me off!” he yelled and lurched to the middle exit.

“Sir, we cannot-”

“I need to get off this bus _now!_ ”

They must’ve taken pity on him, or he was annoying enough that the rest of the passengers wanted him gone, the bus driver swore, and the bus came to a rolling halt.

The double doors had barely opened wide enough and he flung himself out and onto the sidewalk.

‘ _Please still be there, please still be there,_ ’ Robbie thought frantically as he ran back to where he had seen him a couple of hundred meters from where he had been let off.

He came to a slow jog, yes, he would for once admit it for what it was, ten meters from Jives, when he spotted him nearing and made to get out of the bench and leg it.

 _No, no, no_. “I’m not the cop, you brat! I just want to have a word with you!”

He sat down again. The boy didn’t seem to have any greater self-preservation instincts, but for this occasion it was for the better. Though, he stayed on the edge and seemed ready to make a run for it if need be. “What do _you_ want?” he spat.

He was out of breath, but he managed out a, “just… Talk.” He was going to lose a lung, he was pretty sure of it.

He eyed him sceptically, but remained seated. “What the hell makes you think I want to talk to you? “You set the cops on me. He shot him daggers as he added, “they wanted to _talk_ too.”

“ _Brat_ ,” he called him again, because that’s what he was, “you brought a bunch of drug pushers and offenders to the centre. And one of them is already brought in for severe vandalism.” He hoped that the goon was still in custody. “ _What the hell did you expect?_ ”

Jives glared and rubbed his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“It’s up to you.” He coughed and put his hands on his knees. “I am old and cannot run very fast if you decide to be an idiot.”

“You’re not that old,” he snorted and leaned back into the wooden backrest, confident that Robbie wouldn’t be able to catch up in his state.

The strays of grey he’d found by his temples and furthermore greys when he looked down the length of his body begged to differ on that statement.

“You’re just out of shape.”

Yes, Stephanie and her posse loved to point that out as well.

“What are you doing out here?” Robbie asked to get the ball rolling.

“Mum went mental.”

He hummed in understanding. “So, you snuck out while she was looking the other way,” he stated.

The boy gave a positive.

Go figure.

This was what Robbie meant that you couldn’t control everything kids did. Sure, you could lock them up, but then you had less of a _fostering_ issue, and more of a _Child protection services_ issue.

“I’m surprised you’re not with your _friends._ ” He chanced to sit down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Those _muppet rejects_ aren’t my _friends_ ,” he responded sourly.

At least the kid had seen their true colours, and not liked it. A small victory. “What the hell were you thinking, bringing those clowns there?”

“You swear a lot.”

“I’m off the clock. I’d like you to answer what made you think it was a good idea in the first place.”

“They always complained about being bored when we hung out, and when they asked about the centre… I thought… I dunno, that it would be fun and show them what there was? There’s always something to do at LazyTown, usually. I didn’t think they would break stuff in there and be massive dicks.”

That told a great deal of how young and utterly naïve the teen still was.

Robbie didn’t have to point it out, Jives did it himself. “Stupid, I know,” he said and wiped his nose again. He was starting to wonder how long the kid had been sitting out there before he arrived.

“I’m not going to argue against that.”

He seemed to mellow out. “Sorry about them calling you… You know… And not saying something.”

“I don’t think they would’ve cared.”

Better not mention the artwork inside of the restroom. Any other case, a good way to turn the establishment against Jives as well and isolate him.

He sucked his lower lip, wringing his hands inside the muff pocket he’d shoved them in and asked, “what about… What about Sportacus? They busted his bike.”

Good question there.

Hell knows what was going on with that asshole. Robbie did, however, understand a thing or two about the relationship between the youth leader and the anxious kid next to him. “Bad, not only because of the bike. You broke his heart.” He was pretty sure on that one. Jives winced and hunched in on himself. “But, if it’s of any consolation,” he added, “he’s also pretty pissy with me, but the feelings mutual anyway.”

“At _you_?”

Robbie merely shrugged. “He cares about you, and let’s leave it at that,” he said instead of making him privy of the clusterfuck that was Alex and Robbie as a whole. Jives had other things he should worry about.

“He still wears that stupid hat I gave him,” he said meekly.

The origin of the cap was brought to light. “So, that hideous thing is _your fault?!_ ” The boy had no room to complain though, taking his awful beanie into consideration. “Please, tell me you didn’t make it yourself.”

Jives guffawed, “no, I got it from a fair…” He then looked down at the sidewalk under them and asked, “if you and Sportacus aren’t friends, then why are you here?”

 _That_ had to be the first person to assume they had ever been, and wrongly so as well. “Because, this isn’t about him, or me. This is about you, and the shitty pushers you went with.”

“It’s just weed.”

“God, you’re naïve,” Robbie scoffed, unable to keep his opinion to himself.

He protested, “that gateway stuff is bull.”

“Oh, that’s all relative. I mean that the people selling it is the issue here.” He hadn’t run here to go through a tired lecture about the health risks of pot and that synthetic substitute shit, that’s what they had the posters for. “Answer me this; are you hiding out here because you don’t want to nark on them out of a sense of loyalty. Or, is it because you’re afraid they’ll come after you?”

Jives stared down at the ground intently. “I had some weird phone calls.”

“Threatening kind or saccharine?”

“Uh,” he fumbled, “both, I guess. Weird, you know?”

‘ _All too well_ ,’ he thought.

“I blocked the numbers that popped up, then they called the home number, and _now mum_ keeps calling me every second.”

Yes, he recognised it all. He might as well go full on and not beat around the bush. “Consider that your first warning from them. See, the problem is; if you keep with these types of people and something goes to hell again, there won’t just be phone calls, there’ll be personal home calls as well.”

Jives’ head snapped up to him.

“Do you want your mum to answer the door and have a bunch of big ugly guys asking for you?”

“Fuck no,” he answered, as the most obvious thing that it was. “I just, I didn’t think they were that bad when we met. They were cool… I _thought_ they were cool.”

They always did. “Jives, I have to know. Did they ask you to keep… _Things_ for safekeeping?” How deep in was he already?

Jives’ lips drew into a thin line. “I was asked if I could watch some of the weed… But I told them I couldn’t because of mum, and they backed off.”

For the time being. “And that didn’t ring any bells of alarm for you?”

Jives glowered. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Do you, really?”

“ _Yes_.”

This wasn’t a pep talk. It was just plain facts.

Robbie’s earlier passive thought about Child protection services came back to the forefront of his mind.

He leaned on his forearms onto his knees and tried to formulate _something_. “Look, I’m not a social worker, but I could get you in touch with one, if you wanted to.” He had a long list of them through his personal login on their intranet and in the system’s mailing list, he could scroll through his phone for them right now. One of them ought to fit the bill of this particular situation the kid was in.

“What? _No?_ ”

As expected. “Just a suggestion, give it some thought.”

Jives appeared to do so. However, instead of giving him an answer, he asked Robbie, “who the hell are you? How do you know all this stuff?”

“I…” ‘ _Because I used to be you, but no one tried to intervene before it was too late,_ ’ he thought. Sighing, he said, “I used to be a courier and storing stuff for a gang when I was your age. Drugs, weapons, contraband. I used to do a lot of stealing too, when I got older” He had deft fingers and he knew how to hotwire a car. Skills well utilised in that field.

His eyes went wide and he shot up sitting ramrod straight to gawk at him. “ _Whoat?_ _You?!_ ”

Robbie could kiss his job goodbye. “That’s how it starts, Jives. You get sucked in under the pretence of belonging and group pressure, but they’re only really interested in you because you’re underage, and, though you’re already the age of criminal responsibility, the penalty won’t be as severe as someone of eighteen and twenty-one years old.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath.

 

An understatement.

 

“Have you taken any business economics classes in school?”

“A few, this last semester.”

Good, then some of this should hopefully make sense. “Think of it as a hierarchic business organisation with different branches. The guys that hang at your school are a faction of a larger group, they’re basically the sales and recruitment because they themselves are young enough to get away with a lot of crap. Besides them is a group of enforcers, if someone can’t pay up or crosses them. These foot folk are the ones you usually see in the news and other _groupies_ that are considered too unhinged to be part of the actual establishment, but are mighty useful for bashing someone’s head in.” Jives jerked his head in a positive, eyes nearly bulging. “Over them are other groups for money laundering, fencing stolen property, drug or weapons trafficking and the finer inner mechanics with the people at the core. It’s all about bolstering their numbers and making a profit.” Of course, that was organized crime. There were standalone groups as well, but scratch the surface and they had ties to a bigger group, even if they claimed independence.

“Did you ever, did you get a cut? If it’s like a business, then you get paid. I mean, I don’t want any to do with it, I swear, I just-” Jives shut himself up, looking flustered.

He snorted. Of course he’d ask about that. “Depends on the job.”

“And from what they deliver? Did you ever take anything for yourself?”

“No,” he scoffed. How had this turned into a Q and A? “Never get hooked on what you’re selling, or you’ll become a liability. Steal from them, or tamper with the load in any way and they’ll kill you… Or, make an example out of you.” The customers empty eyes and desperation as they made the transition was enough incentive to keep only with the soft drugs you could buy for yourself.

“Is this why you work at the centre? You’re one of those reformed motivational speakers?”

He thought of Alex’s angry confession about why he had been employed. “That’s what they _want_ me to be, I suppose.” Though, he wasn’t a very conventional one in that case, as it had already been proven. “Listen, I’d personally suggest that you lie low for a while. Cut ties with them completely, the whole shabam. Explain to your mum and ask if you can stay out of school until the whole thing blows over. They might hold a grudge for a while for that, or the one the fuzz got will squeal,” though, that was unlikely, “and focus will move off from you, but until then you should hold a low profile. It’s not what the general public wants and definitely not the law, but it’s what’s best for you.” The school district was where he had been approached in the first place and thus clearly not a safe space. And he told him that last bit as well.

It had been a rough ride for Robbie to get out and cut ties all on his own. Jives wasn’t in too deep, he was merely a prospect that had turned unprofitable. And, he wasn’t on his own.

Jives scoffed. “Don’t you think I’ve already tried? She won’t listen to me. Look!”

He pulled out his phone from the muff pocket of his hoodie to demonstrate the amount of missed calls and the fact that the thing was silently buzzing in his grip in that very moment.

“Should I take cover?” Robbie had a feeling that he should.

To his dismay, he was going to answer it with him present. “Watch this.” He held the phone before him.

Which proved smart, if he’d held it against his head he might’ve burst an eardrum.

Ms. Junkfood was, understandably, not a happy woman. He could hear her clearly on the other end, demanding to know where Jives was and that he’d come home that instant.

He gave him a pleading look. “Do you think you could… Talk to her?”

‘ _Absolutely not!_ ’ “…Put her on speaker.”

_How did this keep happening to him?_

 

She was quick to pick up on the change and the sound of a second voice. “Who’s that with you?! Are you with those vandals?! I swear I’ll-”

“Ma’am,” he tried to speak over her shouting, “my name’s Robert, I’m working for the Recreational- and Public Health department.” He still was anyway.

A moment of silence, then, “are you with the _Social services_?”

That was one loaded delivery of the word if any. “No, I’m working at the youth centre by his school.”

He repeated the offer he’d given Jives earlier and waited for her reaction.

The problem with parents, was that there was a certain pride and the fragility of it when outsiders came in to interfere, labelling you, as a parent and person, a failure.

Thankfully, Ms. Junkfood didn’t turn out to be as prideful and stubborn as his own folks had been and she took the number of the department Robbie found on his own phone.

 

The teen complained as he pocketed his phone, “it’s not fair that she’d listen to you.” The ‘ _and not me,_ ’ was unspoken.

“That’s the beauty of being another adult, I suppose,” he said dryly. The truth was that he felt in over his head and a bit woozy. “You shouldn’t be out here. Go home and be a lazy kid. Read some comics.”

 

Robbie, personally, now had a lot of dry goods and mixes to buy, if he wanted to survive after getting fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/
> 
> Another chapter I had to cut at a good place before it ran away from me...
> 
> I sketched the bench scene weeks ago and I'll upload it on my tumblr when I've cleaned it up (Or, I'll forget about it like always -I still haven't posted the art I've amassed for my other fics)


	12. Queer it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie wants to be steadfast in his righteous anger and move on from there. But, he’s a bit of a softie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entertained the idea of naming the chapter something along the lines of "Pride and Prejudice" but thought better of it. Bc new title works even better (to mess up someone’s plans)

Monday arrived sooner than he’d preferred.

Over the course of the night he’d gone through a roller coaster of feelings. Moving from anxiety, to anger, depression, _more_ anger and then acceptance of that he’d have to bite the bullet.

Looking back at it, it might’ve been a bit like grief.

Regardless, fact was; he was going to work, and Alex would most definitively be there as well. And he would just have to deal with that Robbie wasn’t going anywhere. Alex might’ve played a part in the decision making of having Robbie on trial period, but he was pretty certain that the one to fire him befell solely on Busybody.

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t completely let go of the anger.

Busybody seemed to like him, and it would be all too easy to paint himself as the victim, which he was, thank you very much. Though, as previous life experiences had taught him, that would probably come back to bite him in the ass and make it ten times worse.

 

No, he had another plan.

 

That noon, standing before the bathroom mirror to get ready for work, he felt a little bolder, a little braver, than he’d felt in a great while as he applied his warpaint. An expression that was starting to make sense to him now.

A bit of blush, a shimmer of pink in the crease, eyebrows properly shaped and filled in and a hint of soft eye liner in with the upper lashes.

A tinted lip balm finished off the visage.

It was definitely not as daring as when he would be going _out_ out, but it made a statement as a day look. It felt exhilarating. With the pain came liberation.

For too long had he been toning himself down for the sake of fitting in at work.

And for what? As the blaring evidence that had been displayed in the abhorrent homophobic and deep cutting caricature of himself, it did not matter. Not one single bit.

His colleagues might offer their condolences and support. But, at the end of the day, it had been his drawn face on the wall and with what he rather not think of.

Not theirs. _His_.

As such was, he might as well hold his head high and not go back on a promise he had made to himself years ago.

Was it a good way of coping? That was probably up for discussion, but it was his way.

 

Entering their office later on, Penny gave him a double take. Which to confirm that he did look slightly different than usual.

Whatever her vocal response would've been, he cut her short. “Is Bessie in?”

“Yes, she’s in her office.”

“Thanks.”

He knocked on her side door and stuck his head in.

“Are you available? I need a word.”

Surrounded by printed documents and looking up from her computer, Busybody motioned for him to enter. “Come in, please, I need a distraction from _this_.” She glared at the screen at that last part.

Thanking her, he sat down across from her.

Peering over the rim of her glasses, she remarked his appearance, “Robbie, you look amazing,” smiling, “have you been holding out on us?”

He had. “Yes.”

It turned somewhat sad. “Is it because of what happened last week? If you need to talk to someone-”

“No, no,” he assured her. “Not about that.”

_Here went nothing._

He did then what he should have done right from the start when things were starting to go awry. “It’s about one of our regulars, Jives.”

He left out the part about Alex though. That would only complicate things further. As far as Robbie was concerned, the guy was a nuisance best left ignored.

 

Robbie still had a job. Go him.

 

“I’m disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me about this, but I must say that you handled it well, circumstances considered,” she said. “Though, I doubt that it would have prevented the outcome of last Friday anyway…” She sighed, “poor Alex.”

Yes, poor bastard.

 

Speak of the devil. Muffled voices seeped in from the office next to them.

 

Alex had arrived.

Time for staff meeting.

Oh joy.

 

Penny and he were in conversation when they exited Busybody’s office.

He had a strange contraption held under his arm, it looked like a weird abstract unicycle at first glance. There were two wheels parallel to each other though. He read the silver frame. ‘ _Skutla_ _’_. He couldn’t say that he’d encountered that brand before and therefor told him little.

What is _that_?” Penny eyed the thing.

Alex confirmed Robbie’s hunch. “It’s a folding bicycle. Until I get my bike fixed up, this will do for shorter stretches.”

“Where are you going to keep it?”

“I initially thought the locker room, but I forgot to bring the cable lock, so I was hoping I could temporarily stow it here for today,” he said and put it away by the wall.

“I’ll allow it, _for today_ ,” Busybody said as she entered the room, announcing her, and inadvertently Robbie’s, presence.

Alex turned to look in their direction and visibly froze at seeing Robbie.

All things considered, Robbie had run off into the rain, not very unlike a mighty distraught nineteenth century heroine. Far from his finest moment.

Though, their places looked like they had been altered in that regard.

For once, in the case of presentation between the two men, Alex sure fell short. He looked exhausted. It would seem like the guy had the unfortunate affinity for bags under his eyes.

There was schadenfreude in that.

“Dear, you look _terrible_ ,” Busybody chirped.

 

Definitively schadenfreude.

 

Someone was on edge. Every now and then throughout the meeting, where Busybody informed them on the process of restoring the handicap toilet, he would glance at Robbie, looking nervous. He himself pointedly ignored his presence in turn.

Even as he walked straight past him to leave the room.

He could finally put that fancy behind him. The spell was broken, and he’d move on from that stupid dead-end crush.

 

Or, so he’d hoped.

 

Culprits had a tendency of returning to the scene of the crime. He supposed that the same went for the victims.

The repairmen had done what they could during the weekend, but the material damage had gone deeper than they had initially thought, and the floor had had to be stripped down to the foundation. Behind the plastic sheet obscuring the open door was the buzzing noise of an industrial dehumidifier. It would take a week to fully restore the handicap toilet and until they started the repainting, it would stay up to keep the unsightliness of the graffiti out of the public eye.

He should get one of those dehumidifiers for his basement, he mused.

 

Robbie didn’t as much _see_ as _felt_ Alex approaching. God, could he not get with the programme and stay away?

 

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m staying,” and turned on his heel to walk somewhere else.

“Robbie, wait, _please_.” If he didn’t know better, he’d thought that he was begging.

It was enough to make him give pause.

“What?” He didn’t sneer, but he wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy either towards him. “I’m kinda busy here.” When he looked back he saw the man retract his arm as if he been trying to reach after him.

He really did look terrible. “I owe you an apology.”

He snorted. That was a first.

“I mean it,” he faltered, “I’m really sorry about what I said. I was angry, at myself, and, I took it out on you and that’s not acceptable. I _knew_ something was going on, and, and you’re right.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to inform him that he was right about a lot of things and would have to narrow it down.

“I haven’t given _you_ reason to trust me, because _I_ haven’t trusted you.”

‘ _Not helping your case here,_ ’ he thought sardonically, but still remained quiet. Let the man dig his own grave, or get to the point wherever he was going with this than ‘ _sorry for being a dick._ ’

He took his silence as an invitation to continue, slumping with his back against the wall by them facing the vandalised restroom and gesticulated. “And not just Friday, but bringing up your background like that and that I’ve made you feel unwelcome here.” He looked at his feet. “My values have been all over the place, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I barely recognise myself anymore. This _isn_ _’t me_.”

This was starting to sound less like an apology and more like frantic rambling. “I’m going to have to stop you, because you’re making no sense here.”

“It’s a poor excuse, and I should know better. I should have told you about me being diabetic and how it affects me, especially when my values are low.”

Hold on a second. He held his hands for timeout. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been riding my ass, _because of your blood sugar?_ ”

“I… It’s a bad excuse. But it has been… Yes, essentially,” he admitted.

It was too surreal. But, it made sense. “Oh my god,” he near cried out and Alex startled at the outburst.

Was it too early to throw around quips? It was _his_ coping mechanism, however, it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

“You’ve been _hangry_ this whole time!”

Maybe not the hungry part exactly, but the effect was the same. He’d had a great aunt on his dad’s side that would go _berserk_ when her blood sugar dropped.

This didn’t excuse the shitty antics, but it explained a great deal!

“You _idiot_ ,” make no mistake, he was still angry with him, “if something happened and I didn’t know why, then we’d have a huge problem here. What if you fainted?!”

“I assumed, that either Bessie or Penny had told you of my condition.”

And Robbie had _assumed_ that Alex had been hiding something far fouler. And look where that had gotten them. He wanted to rub his face and press the balls of his hands into his sockets out of chagrin, but that would ruin his makeup. “Why didn’t you tell me it yourself?” He was starting to suspect that Busybody’s suggestion to ask Alex about himself was less of a nudge for him to socialise, and more a purport that asking the man head on was the only way to find out anything!

He might as well be pulling out his teeth, judging by the reluctant expression on his face. “It’s… It’s not the same as when you didn’t tell Bessie that you’re dyslectic, but…” His gaze fell.

Hammer hammer nail. “You’re _ashamed?_ ” he said in disbelief.

Robbie had a learning disability. He was well acquainted with the stigma from that, but the thought had never struck him that diabetics could feel that way too.

“It’s still very new to me. I got the first diagnose last fall just before I turned forty, I knew that something was off, but unlike type two diabetes it was slow developing. Until it wasn’t and it’s not quite like type one either and I got my proper diagnose shortly before you started.”

He implored him, beginning to understand a bit what the hell was going on here, “you got misdiagnosed?” He didn’t know the difference between the two types people kept referring to. Then again, he thought only overweight and old people got diabetes.

“I got LADA.”

“Lad-what?”

Alex took a breath and let it out in a long sentence, “ _latent autoimmune diabetes of adults_.”

“Okay, that’s a mouthful.” Yeah, he’d stick to the abbreviation too. “Wait… Autoimmune?” As a cross allergic, he recognised that term.

“Diabetes is the symptom and not the disease itself. My immune system is attacking the beta cells in my pancreas. And with it, my own insulin production.” His mouth tugged into that almost smile. “I’m basically allergic to _myself_.”

“And here I thought my immune system was one stupid fuck.”

He hummed. “It’s at its core like type one, but I show the same symptoms as type two.”

“So, you got, what, diabetes one point five?”

“Yes, exactly.”

 

Robbie was truly at loss for words here.

 

The floor was really interesting to look at, he would have to agree. As they both stared at their feet in silence. Damn it, he had really looked forward to point-blank dislike the guy and here he was actually considering reconciliation.

“I understand if you’re angry. You have all the right to, but, I mean,” he looked him straight in the eye for the first time since the rambling and the confession had started, “are we good? I’d really like to try and start over.” Puppy eyes, move aside, there was legitimate competition here, and damnit, he really was a softie, wasn’t he?

He hadn’t officially given his forgiveness for all the bullcrap yet. “If you stop acting like a dick, then yes.”

The man nearly slumped before him in relief. “I have been acting like a dick. I’m sorry. I feel like you’ve only seen me at my worst. I… I want to be better, you deserve that.”

“And no more secrecy. If you keel over, I want to know what the hell I should tell the kids that for some misled reason mourn you.”

“Yes,” he said and nodded his head in fast eager motions.

“Just for future references, should I throw a chocolate bar in your face whenever you get cranky out of nowhere then?” That would be fun to try to explain to an outsider watching.

‘ _Sportacus is not himself when he_ _’s hungry, Pinkie._ ’

He wrinkled his nose. “Even if I could have it, I don’t like chocolate.”

“Well, then I got nothing. This relationship is never going to work out.”

The man actually let out a laugh at that and pushed off the wall.

Robbie eyed the outstretched hand before him.

Alex caught onto the hesitance. “Oh, uhm,” he retracted the appendage and instead of, to his mild surprise, backing away, he said, “hug?”

“Yeah, alright,” he gave in, self-indulgent into his very last breath.

 

Though the bar was already set quite low, his hugs were by far better than his handshakes. He was a bit surprised that it was an actual nice genuine hug, and not the two claps on the back then separate kind. The man was warm and solid against him, his hair tickling the side of his jaw. He was pretty sure the noise and hot breath against his shoulder was an exhaled, ‘ _thank you._ ’

 

“Anything else you want to know?” Alex asked when he withdrew, and Robbie already missed the contact.

 

“Actually, yes.” Too many things, but he’d settle for a specific one. “Before the rehab gig thingy. Bessie mentioned that you were into sports, or something or the other.”

“I was an aerobics gymnast,” he replied automatically, cocking a brow and crossing his arms.

 

And this day just kept on getting weirder, it seemed.

That wasn’t what Robbie had expected. At all.

 

“You were into aerobics?” he burst out. “You’re a _glorified cheerleader!_ ”

“Hey!” he protested, but a smile was growing on his face nonetheless.

He had to take a moment to get his bearings back and stop giggling like a school girl. “What happened?”

“ACL injury.” At Robbie’s blank face he elaborated, “I tore my anterior cruciate ligament. I had to undergo knee surgery. It’s a common injury, but it never healed quite right and enough for me to go back to the level I had been at.”

He winced, “oh…” Nice going there. “Sorry.”

“It’s been over a decade, it’s okay.”

“If you hadn’t had the injury,” he asked out of curiosity, “would you still be doing it?”

“The competitive field is not the same as when I left it, there are younger, far better, talents now. And besides, I wouldn’t be competing anyway at this rate, many quit in their thirties, I merely went into retirement a couple of years ahead than I had expected. I would probably be right where I am now.”

“You could’ve been a PA teacher, or a coach.”

“I don’t like the idea of judging and rating children’s performance like that. I prefer to encourage and show that sports and physical activities can be fun, and not make it a chore. I… I like helping people. Telling an _eleven year old_ that they can’t join their friends in a sports team because they lack experience with kicking a ball professionally, is cruel.”

That sounded awfully specific. “…Jives,” he chanced.

Alex merely jerked his head in a positive, his face drawn and looking straight ahead towards the plastic sheet.

He resigned to sigh and to leave it be. Better not go digging in there.

After a beat he said, as he glared at it, “the one that we caught is getting charged for hate speech.”  

Right, there were a lot of slurs and graffiti that covered every religion, ethnicity and sexual orientation in there.

Alex continued, tearing his eyes from the sheet and turned to Robbie. “You’re not the only one that hurt from the graffiti. You are not our mascot for how you present yourself or your sexuality… I should probably have told you this back when you started.”

“Good god, what now?” How many other important things had he forgot to mention or kept secret?!

Alex chuckled and then explained to him.

 

Well…

 _That_ answered Penny’s question about what Alex’s _deal_ was.

 

He was gay.

 

Gay -and Robbie was internally screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% canon Robbie would prolly not forgive the blue elf, but in here, I write the rules.
> 
> When I started out, I knew little to nothing about diabetes since I don't have it myself and this was a learning experience.  
> I do, however, know about blood sugar swings and mood swings!  
> From first experiencing my own mum, but that 's easily fixed. The problem is my aunt because she's the same. EXCEPT she's got a metabolic disorder so it's like a goddamm race horse, the kind some people would commit murder for, she gets cranky af when she's hungry and because of the disorder [Insert that gif of the hulk here] SHE'S ALWAYS HANGRY!


	13. Start from scratch, but don't scratch the surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return of the Condo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Pablo, I should prolly add that to the tags...
> 
>  
> 
> [the floor plan of the condo lord help me](http://xbydefault.tumblr.com/post/175390952336/you-know-that-the-world-building-has-gone-too-far)

“Are you surfing porn?” a voice said right by his ear.

“ _Yeargh!_ ”

Penny had to support herself on the joint desk as she wheezed at Robbie’s frightened outcry.

“Don’t do that!” He’d nearly fallen out of the desk chair and glared up at the culprit.

She ignored his frazzled state in favour of asking him, “what are you doing?”

He looked back to the computer screen before him. They weren’t really supposed to private surf on their work computers. Supposed to, but _everyone_ did it now and then. “I’m looking up diabetes,” he replied. “You know, in case…” He made a gesture with his hands that could really mean anything.

“Oh, yeah, that’s smart, some of the kids might go hypo,” she hummed and nodded sagely. “It’s super scary.” Sounded like she had encountered it then.

 _Hypoglycaemia_. There was low blood sugar, and then there was _hypo_ , when it completely dropped to dangerous levels. It felt a bit contradictive to him. For a condition formerly known as ‘ _Having the sugars_ ’ or other laymen terms around the word, you didn’t expect that having a too low value would be such a big issue…

“Did you know that Alex is diabetic?”

He did _now_ , no thanks to the rest of his colleagues. “Yeah.”

“Really hard to believe. I saw a woman out jogging on my own run the other day and she had an insulin pump hooked up to her arm. She was so slim and fit, you’d never thought it be anyone like that.”

He made a positive noise. It was a fairly common misconception born out of prejudice he himself had believed in. Before Penny came and scared the living daylight out of him, he’d done a bit of searching and had come to realise how complex it was.

Initially, he had typed in the word ‘ _lada_ ’ in the search bar. He’d come up with a lot of pictures of cars and then barns, and figured that something wasn’t quite right, he’d narrowed it down to ‘ _lada diabetes_ ’.

And down the rabbit hole of links, journals and forums he’d gone.

Alex getting misdiagnosed was apparently a fairly common incident, that they’d caught on and changed the diagnose under the period of three months was however, somewhat extraordinary, which told of how poorly he must’ve responded to the treatment.

_How long had he gone before he'd even gotten the first one?_

“He seems to have improved though. You’re right; he is a bit like a kangaroo.”

Great understatement. Weeks of awkwardness aside, solely from Robbie’s side after Alex had come out to him, the man had been good to his word. Whatever changes he’d done in his treatment, it had improved his socialising skills and outlook. The man was obnoxiously cheerful now, and Robbie wasn’t sure if he’d preferred the aloofness after all. On the other hand, it was easier to pick out when he was acting atypical now that he knew what the baseline was.

Another affirmative noise from him.

As Penny sat down by her own computer he added ‘ _pump_ ’ to the search. “Yikes...” he let out under his breath.

 

Sure, Alex had improved, it wasn’t perfect though, he still insisted on providing suggestions on how Robbie could improve his own diet.

“Have you tried adding any dark greens?” he smiled around a forkful of something _healthy_. Smiling, he was always smiling nowadays. And with spending most of the time outside in the sun, his hair was well on its way of turning him into a beach blond, along with a dusting of freckles on his face and forearms. It was a _good_ look for him.

The awkwardness was, as mentioned, all on Robbie and he was more often than not in a Mexican standoff with his inner self-deprecating voice and his desire. ‘ _Gay,_ ’ he thought as he replied, “keep that kale to yourself, or I swear on my life I’ll make you pay.” Alex only replied by grinning at him with his apple-cheeks bouncing up, and crinkling his eyes. ‘ _Gay, gay, gay._ ’

Gay, and not into Robbie for obvious reasons.

It had almost been kinder when he’d thought that the man was straight, and he’d been free to blame the utter hopelessness of his pathetic infatuation, yep, it had come to that now, on that detail.

And not because he simply wasn’t interested in Robbie.

Who would?

Robbie shoved a piece of his store-bought grilled cheese sandwich into his mouth.

He was starting to suspect that Fridays were somehow cursed.

“Mediterranean?” Busybody eyed his lunch whilst getting herself a new cup of coffee and gracing them with her presence in the process. Well, that explained the tomatoes and feta. A shrewd smile crossed her features, and both men physically braced themselves. They knew that look on her, that was the _Gossipy_ _Aunt_ _Bessie_ look. “Is _Pablo_ back in town?” she said saccharinely.

_Who?_

“No, uh, the diet, it’s been helping me keep a steadier blood sugar.” Alex ducked his head. “I did call him for some pointers though.”

“Right, he has that restaurant now,” Busybody hummed, “how’s that going?”

“Hectic, but he loves it. He’s doing what he’s the most passionate about.”

“Well, give him my best the next time you exchange words,” she gave him a red painted smile and tripped away on her heels.

Who was Pablo? Busybody’s lover or something? Did ol’ Meanswell have competition? She hadn’t exactly been subtle with the double entendres.

Alex stared down at his lunch and played with his food. It could be his imagination, but the rosy cheeks seemed a shade darker.

 

Fridays, cursed or not, there was something about them.

 

Penny’s request only confirmed it further later on. “Town Hall has its _Do Re Mi!_ this Saturday. Me and Bessie are going, and I wondered if you guys wanted to go too?”

Tomorrow… Robbie had heard Penny mention the monthly pub for municipal employees before, but he’d never gone for the reason that he knew little to no one there, his aversion to crowds and not to speak of the commute. He was getting too old to stay outside during the night waiting for the first buss in the wee hours.

“I don’t drink,” Alex pointed out, juggling two apples while he occupied the kiosk for a rare moment, rarer so because it wasn’t a Wednesday.

“Pffhhh,” she noised, “you can have fun without drinking, and you know that.”

His reply was the universal _fair enough_ facial expression and nod. “Maybe.”

She huffed in chagrin. “Robbie?” she asked, lasering in on him instead now.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said blithely from his own task, “it’s hard as it is commuting to town during the day hours on the weekend. I’d be stuck, and I can’t throw away my money on a hotel room like that.” Perhaps a little too blithely, she eyed him incredulously.

“I know,” she tapped the palm of her hand with a fist, “Alex lives close to the pub, you could sleep at his place,” she said as if it was the most apparent solution and that the men before her were witless dunces not to have come to the solution themselves.

They glanced over at each other. “I… Suppose so,” Alex said tentatively, “if you’d like to?” looking his way.

It was a known fact that Robbie didn’t have a life outside of work, and, with the current blatant excuse presented, turning down the offer could be taken the wrong way. The last time he’d been in the achromatic condo, it had not been a fun experience… For any party involved.

“If my attendance is so highly sought after, alright then,” he sniffed.

“Sweet!” Penny declared, triumphant that she’d won them both over. “Hey, are you on any social media so we can keep in touch?”

He shook his head. “No, and I don’t want to be on any, thank you very much.” For many, _many_ reasons. He had in a moment of weakness looked up his brothers and he didn’t, if the impossible was to happen, want them to be able to do so in return.

“We can exchange our phone numbers,” Alex suggested, at last having put down the accursed fruits. “We should do so anyway, so we can reach each other on the floor.”

Not if you forget your phone in your locker, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

 

They agreed that Robbie could swing by to ditch his things at Alex’s before the event and they’d go there together. Not that hard to arrange. As long as he was okay with sleeping on a couch, that was. He hadn’t seen that he had one, but he hadn’t ventured further than the entrance to the kitchen area. “That’s a luxury, I fall asleep on the regular in front of the TV in the recliner anyway,” he’d said, which had been received by twin winces from the two recreational youth leaders.

 

Whatever. If the choice was between giving up the kitschy piece of furniture, or his bed, he’d give up the bed in a heartbeat. It was big and too empty and heating the upstairs in his house was a nightmare.

 

And then came Saturday.

He was already regretting it.

What kind of self-respecting establishment opened at _six_ anyway?

He should’ve called and said he’d had an allergic reaction to something and had to cancel on them, he thought for the umpteenth time as he stood outside Alex’s apartment building.

In the daylight he discovered that the building was actually white. And looking up its length was symmetrical distributions of balconies, both proper ones and those French ones. He thought he could distinguish the one that was Alex’s open one in the top row. Would he hear him if he yelled loud enough?

Alex hadn’t answered his latest texts and he was stuck outside. Just typical. Thankfully, a woman heading out opened the door and he slunk in. Posture held good and pleasant, smile and say hi and she’d believe that he belonged there.

Using the doorbell and knocking on the door the man in question finally opened, skin still pinked and radiating warmth from his shower, damp hair swept back with something smelling vaguely of hair products and facial hair tended to. Oh, and dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans.

“Guh,” was all Robbie managed out. Not the first time he’d seen him half-dressed, but he hadn’t been prepared for _this_.

“Robbie? You’re early,” Alex said, somewhat wide eyed and breathy, while Robbie’s brain was rebooting and dumbly allowed himself to be let inside. The freckles wasn’t only contained to what he’d previously seen but over his shoulders and his sculpted chest. He wasn’t that _below ten percent fat_ body sculptor nonsense, but he was fit as a fiddle and Robbie needed to look somewhere else.

Brain back on track, he groused, “it’s five fifty.” And he’d been skulking outside the complex since five thirty. If the man had seen his messages he’d known that Robbie was coming in around that time thanks to the commute schedule having changed for the summer months.

“It is?” Alex blinked. “I must’ve been in the shower longer than I thought.” The realisation that someone else must’ve let him in seemed to strike him. “How long did you wait outside?”

“Look at your phone,” Robbie said, as he took off his shined black and white Brogues. Found in a second hand shop with a few scratches that he’d easily fixed up to almost new, as long as no one took a closer look at the soles that was.

He picked it up from the table and saw the missed texts from him. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

Robbie couldn’t help but snort in amusement at that.

 

The man put away the phone and said, “feel free to have a look around, I’ll get dressed and we’ll be ready to go and, uh…” He momentarily stopped in his gait away from him.

“Yes?”

“You look good.”

Robbie didn’t know what to do with the compliment. “Uhm, thank you.” It did warm something at his core.

He’d been a bit worried that he was going to be overdressed at first. Navy dress shirt under a striped waistcoat in magenta and dark slacks, all scavenged from second hand’s and altered to fit him better. He could always leave the waistcoat with the dress jacket in the wardrobe he figured.

As Alex disappeared into the doorway the furthest away, that he now figured had to be the bedroom, and closed it enough to leave a small gap, he took advantage of the offer and did have a looksie.

The main area was bathing in the late afternoon sun’s light from the curtain free windows and a light breeze came from the open French balcony. The kitchen was as he remembered, though this time he noticed that the table was lacking a chair. It looked as if it should be four chairs belonging to the set. He put down the bag of overnight articles he’d brought and ventured further in, past the room divider.

Ah, so that was the couch. Square and in brown leather, looking long enough for him to lie down in full length… _And hard_. Rest in peace Robbie’s already abused spine. And a coffee table on the blue rug, the only bigger source of exciting colour, between it and the TV with some books. He’d never pegged the man for a reader, not with how he was always running around. He snorted at the sight of a rolled up yoga mat in the corner, paired with something that looked like a wheel with a rod stuck through it. Another media unit by the bedroom door.  Few pictures on it and lexicons for English and Icelandic, and… English and Spanish? He didn’t stay to look at the framed pictures, though they stood out from the few tasteful, albeit indistinctive pictures on the walls.

He was going to spend the night here? He felt almost afraid to breathe, lest he’d risk disturb the neatness. 

Far from done however, he decided to work his way from the door closest by the hallway and work from there. To little surprise the first door was the shower room, the air hot and humid from the man’s shower. To absolutely no one’s surprise, it was black and white with toilet, sink, and further in the shower cabin on one side, whilst on the facing one a bench with what he guessed was the washing machine and tumbler dryer underneath. Smart and functional. On top was a wet towel and a few stray items of men’s beauty care product. Something to tame those wavy curls and for that moustache of his. Robbie looked at himself in the mirror while he was still in there. He’d tamed his own unruly hair into an inch of its life. His makeup still up to standard, he’d been a little more generous with the eye makeup and eyeliner in the lower corner to open up his eyes.

Appearance to his satisfaction he went onto his next unexplored area of mystery.

“What’s behind this middle door?” he asked, erring on the side of caution if it was a utility closet or something akin to that.

Alex’s voice drifted from the bedroom, “my home office, but I’ve been thinking of turning it into a guestroom.” He added after a beat, “be careful when you open that door, please.”

What for? “That’s not very reassuring.”

Robbie swore under his breath in a mix of awe and hilarity at the sight inside.

At last! Something that disrupted the sterility of the condo he’d seen so far!

“I’m going to go on a hunch here, but, do you, perchance, like to read. Like _, a lot?!_ ” he shouted over to the other room where Alex was spending an awful long time rummaging through his wardrobe.

The home office. No. More like, ‘ _The Room_ ’. Every household had it. Be it a chair, a desk or the attic. A place where you simply just dumped _everything!_ He had in a sense been right about the utility closet theory, there was a vacuum cleaner shoved in there with the rest of the chaos of knickknacks and laundry.

And there was the fourth missing chair, covered in a few articles of gym clothes and magazines, he noted as he took a cautious step inside. True, there was a desk under a window furthest into the narrow room and its surface was not too cluttered. But the wall on his direct right, was nothing but shelves of books upon books and more piled on the floor by the foot of it when the owner had run out of space.

There was a bookshelf gaping empty out in the agoraphobia inducing main area for crying out loud!

“That thing is going to kill someone, how has it not collapsed upon itself?!”

A sarcastic laughter echoed from the room next door.

The man had said that his unit up in the storage attic was full, god only knew what he’d crammed up there.

It was a bit uplifting to see that the condo wasn’t completely flawless. Robbie would be the first to admit that he was on the messy side, but it was evenly spread out over his hovel in organized chaos. Not as when it was concentrated into one spot like this.

He re-entered the main area, feeling a little dazed at the stark contrasts. “Has Penny ever been here?” She knew where he lived at the very least.

“No, she’s picked me up and dropped me off a few times during the winter… Alright, I’m ready,” Alex announced as he re-emerged.

Robbie eyed him, and he was, frankly, a bit let down. As much as he enjoyed the items on the man on the regular basis, but… Jeans and white t-shirt. And to top it off… “That’s the exact same shirt you wore yesterday at work, that you ran around in the field back and forth.”

It had grass stains!

He’d spent forever in there, he’d heard him go through his wardrobe!

“Oh.” He looked sheepishly down at the shirt.

“Do you only own t-shirts? Please, prove me wrong.”

Alex laughed and headed back into the bedroom, surprisingly willingly.

“ _Unbelievable._ ” His phone pinged, and he opened to see Penny’s message. He whistled low in awe at the attached clip and the young woman’s disembodied commentary. On the bright side, he would not be over dressed. “The queue goes around the block! How is that possible?” They didn’t need to hurry too much, if Penny’s lament was any indicator.

“The _Do Re Mi!_ is very popular. It’s a bit too much even for me.”

“And here I thought you were a social butterfly.” No sarcasm for a change.

“These places lose their charm when you don’t drink and are surrounded by a crowd of drunk middle agers.

“ _You_ _’re_ middle aged,” Robbie teased as he slumped down in the couch, it was surprisingly comfy, he wouldn’t mind sleeping in it, too much.

Alex grunted from inside the bedroom. “It’s a buffet the first hours, so many come in early to eat and then the dancefloor opens.”

“It explains the early opening hours… Are you in need of assistance or something?”

There was a pregnant pause, then, “be my guest.” He sounded almost defeated.

Robbie didn’t bother pointing out that he was indeed, his guest, and stood up with a groan to see what kind of wardrobe malfunction he was getting roped into. That, and he was curious what the bedroom looked like now after getting exposed to the _home office_.

He was a little disappointed. No sordid kinky stuff, unless spartan sterility was his kink. A queen sized bed with white linen dominating the equal white room that, if he wasn’t wrong, had morning sun, and a bedside table of ash the same shade as the floorboards. One of the walls consisted of the same type of built in armoire of frosted glass as in the hallway and was the item of interest as Alex stood before it, going through one of the opened doors.

“Nothing fits, but t-shirts,” he declared.

“You’re not having one of those ‘ _I got nothing to wear_ ’ situations, are you?” He peaked into one of the cabinets and concluded that there were clothes in there.

“No, I mean,” he gestured to his body up and down, “Nothing _fits_ , literally.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

It was funny, seeing it on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Robbie was tall, and slim over the shoulders and frame. Alex was short, and _broad_.

“Anything that fits over my shoulders and chest are too big everywhere else and what fits my middle is threatening to burst if I inhale.”

Robbie couldn’t help it. _He_  burst himself out laughing. “There are tailors you know,” he wheezed out after a while.

He himself didn’t go to one. He knew how to do a few alterations on his own thanks to his mum when he and his brothers had had their individual growth spurts, and she’d been too stubborn to waste money on new clothes ‘ _if they were to outgrow them over the next night anyway_ ’.

Alex was on the favourable side. It was easier to take in material than when the sleeves and legs were too short. And going up a size did rarely mend that, no, the attires only got broader around the middle!

The man pursed his lips in displeasure and the moustache twitched, making Robbie start laughing again.

 

They did find a crisp, and judging by its state, rarely used, button up dress shirt that fit if Alex unbuttoned it enough that it was above indecent just so.

“Grab that leather jacket in that one,” he tapped the glass of one cabinet where he’d spotted a tan jacket, “and let’s vamoose, before Penny-” Their phones pinged in tandem. “Too late.”

“It’s not my jacket, it’s my brother’s.”

So, he had a sibling, interesting. “Is he here to stop you? No. _Take it_.”

To his utter amusement, the man did take it and then complained, “I can’t close it, it’s too tight over the chest,” but did at the end, keep it. He then added while they were putting on their shoes. “shoot, I almost forgot, wait.”

 

It was with morbid fascination he watched him administer his dose and inject the insulin in the kitchen, all while Alex’s forehead was slightly creased and tongue sticking out in concentration as he did it.

 

Had he recently eaten, or was he planning on eating something at the place?

 

“Done?”

“Done.”

And _finally,_ they were off!

The sun was starting to set, and they were going to be at least one hour later than anticipated. The text he’d received was from Penny and apparently Alex’s had been from Busybody, the thought of the two women in collusion and impatiently waiting for them was somewhat unnerving.

Walking along the sidewalk, Robbie asked, “if you don’t like the event, then why did you agree?”

“I thought… I thought it would be good for you to meet some of the other people from the departments outside of work.”

He didn’t really know how to respond to that. Insulted? Humbled? Gratified? He settled for a neutral ‘ _oh’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you are thinking correctly where I'm going with this!  
> Well, three things in the chapter, but still!


	14. Girls' night out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not Chippendale, but the ladies ain't listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex ain't exactly out of the fire yet.
> 
> I feel like I’ve been selling Penny short by portraying her as a character that only occurs to annoy the main characters. But, it's rarely that simple.
> 
> And I wish I was exaggerating about the handsy drunks... Both men AND women...

By the time they’d reached the establishment the queue had been reduced to a handful of people outside the entrance.

Problem was, that the previous awesome amount of people he’d seen in the clip had now migrated to the inside of the building after the doors had opened and they were faced with the daunting task of trying to find their colleagues in there somewhere.

It was noisy, is what it was! And it was just past seven! Robbie wasn’t so sure he was going to make it with his ears and his nerves intact. He texted Penny and hoped that she would answer.

‘ _We_ _’re here. You?_ ’

‘ _End of the long table at the columns!!!_ ’

He looked up from his phone trying to spy where she meant over the crowd. “Uuhhh?” Yeah, no, that told him absolutely nothing.

It was sheer dumb luck they did find them.

He heard the outcry over the racket and spotted the waving arms of their colleague, and he took hold of Alex’s wrist to guide him through the farrago of people without further ado.

Coming in closer, he stumbled. And had it not been for their blue haired superior seated by the same table, he’d thought that he’d been mistaken of identity.

Robbie took in the visage before them.

This was _their_ Penny?

She’d smoothed and coerced her baby fine hair in a shoulder-length bob. But that wasn’t it. Bringing back memories of his own fumbling steps when learning the finer makeup skills, he cringed on the inside at what he saw. That was too much blue eyeshadow, the colour suited her complexion and brown eyes, but it was just too damn much of everything. Ending up looking like stage makeup, with the not fully blended powder, red lips and rouge, for the audience in the backrow to see, and not for close range interaction. And true to her usual colour red, but the dress showed more skin than he was comfortable with. He fancied that their relationship was similar to when he’d had siblings, but this set off the big brother protocols he didn’t know he’d had, and a compulsion to find her a jumper to cover her up came upon him.

Who’d let her leave the house like that? The man next to her with the possessive hold around her thin waist gave him an unimpressed upturned look, which looked stupid since Robbie was taller than him, both standing and sitting. 

“We’ve been waiting forever for you!” she exclaimed then sipped on what looked like a daiquiri. He’d have to stay away from that glass. Their company, judging by the empty plates and digestifs, had just finished eating at their arrival it would seem. “This is Nenni,” she introduced the man by her side as they took the free seats at the end of the table. Robbie had to lean in over the table to properly hear her.

The boyfriend, of course. He was dark haired with a heart shaped face and brown eyes, and owner of a very expensive wristwatch glinting in the light he spotted, as he stretched out his hand for Robbie to shake. “A pleasure. _My_ sweet Penny has told me of you.”

“Hi, Nenni,” Alex said smiling in familiarity of the snobbish man.

“Magnússon,” he responded flatly and pursed his lips in displeasure.

Yikes.

He got this uncanny feeling that this might be the sort of person Stingy risked growing up into if no one sorted out his snotty behaviour.

Bessie, who’d for the occasion switched her normal pink frilly blouse for another plum frilly blouse in a dark flower pattern and was by far the most tastefully dressed woman in the establishment, had brought her own partner it would appear. He’d only before met the man in charge in passing when they had business in the Town Hall.

Milford Meanswell, a light-hearted rotund older man, that seemed to have too many things to keep track of than he could manage sometimes. That was usually where Busybody came in to help sort him out.

But, if both of them were here then…? “Who’s watching Pinkie, if you’re here?” He wasn’t worried about her wellbeing per se, rather the wellbeing of the man’s home. She had an affinity for… _Things_ to happen, especially with her friends involved.

Let’s just say, that Alex still had some use of the aerial acrobatics he’d once been competing in and the muscle memory from it.

“Stephanie is with her paternal grandparents this weekend, it’s important that she doesn’t lose touch with her father’s side of her family.”

“She’s your _sister_ _’s_ kid?” he asked. “I thought, with her surname…”

“Her full name is Stephanie Meanswell Splitz,” he explained. “My sister never married Stephanie’s father and… Well, let’s leave it at that.”

Robbie nodded in understanding. There was a whole deal of nonsense behind why the obnoxious child had her uncle as her guardian now.

 

Meanswell was a bit on the dull side in his opinion, but pleasant enough. However, his company was sought after by others. He came back to their group every now and then, but was mostly seen with other members of the council, he guessed they were anyway.

So far, it was… Alright. Nenni was a stuck-up, but an easy enough target for taking the piss out of without the yuppie catching on. Though, if he said something along the lines of _my_ Penny, or _my_ company, or _my_ insert gag worthy nickname for Penny that made her giggle, again, he’d toss his glass of white wine he’d gotten at the bar, and to which where they had all migrated to mingle.

 

Which had worsened Alex’s experience of the event now that he was in the middle of it all.

 

See, a correction of earlier choice of words Alex had used to describe the establishment was in order.

Alex’s personal reason to dislike these places was more than just the regular obnoxious crowd of drunk middle agers. It was _wine drunk middle aged women_.

“Do we need to lock you up for your own safety?” Robbie had joked, before the novelty of it had worn off.

He had to admit, at first it had been a little funny watching Alex on the run and dodging associates of Busybody’s coming by with a thinly veiled excuse of a chat and getting close to the handsome man, but by the umpteenth time, not so much. It seemed as soon as one took the hint and gave up on their own, or was shooed away by Busybody, another one would take their place.

And… They were… _Handsy_.

As he’d noted earlier, Penny’s level of risqué dress was perhaps not the true norm, but she wasn’t an exception either, regardless of age and figure.

And there was only so much a man not interested in women whatsoever could handle when they came up in his personal space to blatantly flirt, or worse…

Hell, even if he’d been into women this was a huge turnoff, and that was only speaking from Robbie’s own perspective.

At most, for Robbie personally, the women that did approach him came up to compliment his makeup and such as his attire while at it, obnoxious but harmless. And at the worst, it had been a lingering touch along his shoulders by a passer-by which had taken him by surprise and he’d turned to try and spot the culprit.

Alex, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be able to catch a break and the touches went far lower. By the third time someone had touched him in a blatant inappropriate way in the crowd he’d looked ready to bare teeth, and excused himself that he needed some air and that he’d be back in a short while.

Now, that had been a long while ago and Busybody had gone outside as well.

For a smoke.

Alcohol brought out the social smoker in her. Why wasn’t he surprised?

He was too sober for this, but getting completely plastered as their surroundings felt impolite to his teetotalling host for the night and who’d only drunk nothing but ice water all evening.

And had yet to come back inside! Where was he? Had he been _man_ -napped?

The noise had worsened with what could pass for music.

Penny was practically vibrating with excitement before him. “They’ve started to move the tables for the dancefloor, come on Robbie,” she tried to sway him.

Not on his life. “Robbie Rotten does _not_ _dance_ ,” he said in third person. And if he did, it would not be to this bedlam.

No, thank you.

“Spoilsport, we’re going to go find Alex, _he_ likes dancing,” she huffed and took her boyfriend’s arm to drag him with her instead. Watching them go, he saw that the man had the poor taste of putting his wallet in his back pocket of his dress pants.

That was just asking for trouble.

Grumbling, he went over to the bar to order a new glass of the sweet dessert wine. Red wine was out of the question for his allergies and he didn’t like beer. It had been nothing short of a miracle that they had a bottle he recognised as both something he could drink _and_ of his liking.

That’s when Robbie himself got accosted.

At least it wasn’t a scandalously dressed middle-aged wine drunk woman, he told himself.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” a male voice said close to his side, “I haven’t seen you here before.” He turned his head and arched a brow.

Oh, they had met before, he knew it, the man leaning on the bar counter knew it.

“You work the front desk at Town Hall, he said drily. “We’ve met.” His tone was plain, but he let settle against the counter casually on one hip and delivered it with a lopsided smile.

Average height, thin with an unfortunate nose and narrow set eyes under brown cropped hair. _The Asshole Receptionist_ as he had dubbed him in his mind.

His co-workers had abandoned him, he might as well kill some time with this phoney.

“That’s the unfortunate drawback of working at the front,” he said and smiled, “everyone knows the monkey, but the monkey knows no one.”

“A person who stands out is recognized by many, even if the person himself does not know these _many?_ ”

He smiled brighter and put down his half empty beer. “Exactly,” he responded, “but I’d like to know one of them better,” and leaned in closer.

_‘Careful, monkey, this wolf has sharp teeth.’_

 

The receptionist had a name. And with the name, came a phone number.

 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Robbie would sleep at Alex’s place that night, he might’ve taken him up on his _other_ offer.

It had been a while.

 

Finishing his glass, he’d barely left the bar when Penny found him. “There you are.” Penny took hold of his elbow, to prevent losing him in the crowd again. “Have you seen Alex?”

“I though he was with you?” Or that one of his female suitors had kidnapped him.

 

If only.

 

They eventually found him seated at a table with Meanswell.

“You alright?”

Supporting himself on his elbows on the table, he looked almost as if he was in prayer with his hands clasped before him and knuckling his forehead. “I think I have a headache coming on. Sorry, but I think I’ll head home a little earlier. I’ll give you the code to the entrance floor, so you can get inside later.” He pushed himself up and instantly faltered, his face going stark white.

“Woah!” Robbie and Penny helped him to sit down in the chair again on each side of him.

Pale, dizzy and headache. Yeaup, that oughta fit the bill.

His blood sugar was crashing.

“Alex?” Penny questioned, her voice tinged with worry. The man just shook his head.

“Oh dear. Is it your blood sugar?” Meanswell asked, seeming to understand what was going on. He tore open one of the sugar packets for his coffee and gave it to him. The man was sharper than Robbie had given him credit for.

That should take the edge off, but he’d probably need more than that. The thought hit him. _Fruit juice!_ The bar served fruit drinks, so it must have juice as mixer!

“Wait here, I’ll see what they have in the bar.”

Alex merely grunted, hiding his face in his hands and supporting himself heavily on the table while he sucked on the sugar cube.

 

The staff working the bar had been quick when he’d explained the situation and he felt like he was handling a live grenade as he walked back to their table with the glass of yellow liquid.

“Hope you like pineapple.”

He gratefully took the glass from him and brought it to his mouth, downing half of its contents in one go. All while Penny had a hand rubbing small circles on his shoulder.

“Milford,” she said, “could you please keep an eye on him while we get our jackets?”

“Yes, yes, of course I will,” the rotund man assured them.

They took Alex’s number tag for the wardrobe and left him under the watchful eye of the mayor.

Her already dark eyes were near black.

He’d never seen Penny angry before. It could be exaggerated by the drinks she’d had, but the way she spat, “I’m going to murder him,” resonated with his own feelings. “If his next crash doesn’t do him in, then I’ll finish the job myself.”

His _next_?

“Penny?”

“When you read up on diabetes on the work computer, was it because of Alex?” she asked him bluntly.

Taken aback he answered, “… Yes.”

“Fucking knew it,” she downright snarled and it was frightening to see her petite features warp like that, “he insists he has it under control, _yeah right_ ,” she scoffed, “if he’s not on insulin, he’ll get sick, and if he is on insulin _then he also gets sick_.” She stomped her foot in frustration. “I swear, I’ll buy him that fucking pump myself, I don’t care how much it’ll cost!”

Too much, if she was to pay out of her own pocket, which she didn’t need to. “It’s covered in pharmaceutical benefits.”

She blinked. “It’s what?”

“I looked it up.” Out of curiosity, he had when she had mentioned the device the first time. Their County Council was covering the initial cost of a staggering four thousand. Not a cheap aid. “Has _this_ ,” he gestured back to the main room, “happened before?” Alex had said that his values had been _all over the place_ , but not that he’d gone into near critical hypoglycaemia!

She hugged herself, staring straight ahead of her. “Found him unconscious in the office a few days into January.”

“Jesus.” He worked his jaw, and asked her in earnest, “do you think it would help?” He’d read the pros and cons, after the initial shock of the device had passed. He didn’t think he’d done this much reading since his studies where he’d been obligated to read.

“He needs reliable basal insulin. I’ve tried to talk him into it, but he’s, he… He’s a stubborn old man!”

Old was relative. Stubborn? Evidently so.

She took the man’s jacket from the attendant in silence.

“He’ll listen to you,” she said as she handed it over for Robbie, “I know it.”

Robbie wasn’t so sure about that, and even less so at her next words seeming to come out of the blue.

“He’s gay, you’re gay.” Oh, so he had told her? “Why aren’t you two gay - _together?_ ”

His gut flipflopped. “That’s the daiquiri talking, Penny.”

“Bet you fifty that he thinks you’re hot too.”

“No, no, no, this isn’t as with you straight people. Two singles doesn’t automatically mean they should date.”

“Well, you should!”

Penny was probably the only resident person here that thought so. That, and her possessive boyfriend who seemed intimidated by Alex.

“I will talk to him, but that’s it.”

“I’ll take it.”

 

Busybody was back and seeming in discussion with Alex, not sounding happy.

Penny’s boyfriend came up to put an arm around her waist and let the hand rest on her hip. She ignored him to share a look with Busybody, and which then turned to Robbie by both.

They were all in agreement here then.

Goddamnit, why him?

 

With Alex apologizing profoundly -for something that he couldn’t help they all told him, Penny and Bessie stayed behind to enjoy the rest of their evening.

Robbie on the other hand was near giddy to leave.

“You don’t have to come with me, I’m feeling better already,” Alex tried to assure him as they left.

“Your reason is legitimate,” he said and put on his dress jacket, “I’m just looking for an excuse to get away from all these people.”

 

It was a fifteen minute walk back to the condo in which they walked in silence until the man spoke up when the tall building where he lived neared, “I saw you talking with the guy from Town Hall, so it’s not a complete loss.”

So, he’d seen that, huh? Robbie chuckled mirthlessly at that and looked up at the bugs buzzing around the recently lit street lights. They’d only been in there for a couple of hours, two tops, it had felt like a lifetime and a half. If there was one bet Robbie was willing to take on, it was that neither of them had had a good time. “I got a jerk’s number. I wouldn’t know about that.”

“You got his number?”

“Yes.”

“…Are you going to call him?” There was something in his voice, his accent a little thicker from the incident.

“I dunno… He’s a tool that’s only interested because he knows I work at the department.” He was still on the fence about the promise of sex though. But, he didn’t need to say _that_ out loud.

Alex hummed.

 

Without taking off his own shoes when they got back inside, Alex went directly to open the kitchen cabinet and took out the clear bottle. “Ah,” was all he said.

“What?”

“I mixed up the insulin,” he explained and put it back in.

He’d _what?!_ “How is that even possible?!”

“It happens,” he said flippantly and moved on to make himself a sandwich as per order after going hypo.

Robbie groaned and hid his face in his hands.

“Robbie, are you alright?”

No, evidently not. And neither was he. “I’m imagining the satisfaction it would bring me to stuff you into a cannon and firing it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We gon have to have an intervention ain't we?  
> Godspeed, Robbie.
> 
> Also, yes, Nenni >:D


	15. Boys' quiet night in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With how much Alex is talking, one would think that he's the one that has been drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is thus far the longest one. I both love it and hate it because oh boy there's a whole deal or dialogue and nonsense.

Having changed into a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that had never seen the inside of a gym, if he’d brought his purple silk pyjamas he’d probably never hear the end of it, he was ready to simply enjoy a quiet evening of awkwardness. He’d wash the makeup off later he told himself.

It was still too early to settle in for the night and they needed to keep an eye on Alex’s values a while longer.

While his host was stabbing himself in the finger by his side, he flipped through the channels on the TV, doing a rather credible impression of a man trying to find anything worthwhile to watch, when he was actually trying to figure out how he could bring up the subject of the man’s unwillingness to get the aid he undisputedly needed.

“Ah, a classic,” he declared triumphantly. And the movie was just about to start. “Not the first one in the installation, but, this will do.” The last part was more of a question. He could keep pressing the forward button if need be. He cast an inquiring eye over to his left at the man.

“No, it’s good,” Alex said and held a piece of tissue against the pad of his finger to quell the bleeding. Robbie hadn’t told him that he didn’t like the sight of blood and he instantly averted his eyes, laughable considering the things he’d seen in an earlier life, but this was Alex’s home and _his_ everyday life.

“Alright then,” he said and put the controller down.

It didn’t take long until Alex made a displeased noise in the back of his throat and got out of his seat next to him. “I’ll make us some popcorn. Tell me when the opening scene is over, please.”

He was still on the low side then.

“You aren’t afraid of dinosaurs, are you?” he teased. It would’ve been so simple if it was something as tangible as that to fear. “I can look for something else to watch.”

“No, no, it’s the beginning I don’t like,” came the voice from the other side of the divider to reassure him.

Robbie turned his gaze back to the screen. Oh. “Is it because of the kid?”

An affirmative hum from the other side.

He turned around to see the back of the other man through the framework of the divider, he was going through the lower drawers for a… What were they called again? Sauté pan? Robbie didn’t know the difference, he didn’t cook more than the bare necessary.

Now or never. “Have…” God, why had they dumped this in him? “Have you thought of getting an insulin pump?”

A moment of silence, then, “it’s an option. But, no, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” It was hard to read him with only glimpses of his backside in view.

“It’s too cumbersome,” he said. “It’s too expensive as well.”

He hazarded a guess. “Is that what you told Penny?”

There, his frame froze up. “It _is_ expensive to maintain.”

“And injecting four times a day isn’t? Those syringes have to pile up.”

“Six times.”

“Not helping. All I’m saying is, that it’s all fun and games, until you hit the floor, _again_.”

“Did Penny tell you? I understand that she’s worried, but she-”

“No,” he cut him off, “I agree with her.”

Alex replied, “I got it under control,” his tone infuriatingly lackadaisical.

“You went into hypoglycaemia, that’s _not_ having it _under control_.” Robbie could feel that _he_ was the one getting more and more riled up. This was like arguing with a wall.

“My values have been steadier and I’ve, up until today, avoided getting on the low end during the day.”

_During the day?_

Was he, indirectly, telling him that he had _overnight hypos?!_

That did it for Robbie. He got out of the couch and went into the kitchen area to confront the obstinate man with a snarl on his lips, “the whole goddamn office is worried about you.” Hell, Robbie alone was worried after seeing the crash and Penny’s confession of just how bad it actually was.

Alex’s brow went up in surprise.

He exploited his stunned state and deadpanned, “ _you_ _’re getting a pump_.”

The neutral façade was starting to slip, and Alex turned to pull out a bag of popcorn kernels. Stovetop popcorn, of course he would. “I’ll think about it,” he said flippantly as he measured.

Robbie was fluent in bullshit, and this reeked. “Oh no.” He pointed an accusative finger at him. “You’re talking to a master of procrastination here.” Alex snorted at that, Robbie however didn’t see the funny in it. “You’ll think about it means; that you’ll _conveniently_ forget about it altogether.”

Engrossed in the cooking he retorted, “my endocrinologist wants to put me on a waiting list anyway, the process has begun whether I like it or not.” And he did not sound like he liked it one bit.

That was a huge relief to hear. He tried a different angle. “Think of the benefits. You wouldn’t have to jab yourself with a needle several times a day.”

The easy-going tone was completely gone now. “A pump is not a ‘ _magic bullet_ ’ that will solve all my problems. It won’t stop high, or low, blood sugar levels from happening,” he countered. “I’ll still have to keep track of my meals, activities, check my blood sugar several times a day, and adding instead risks of diabetic ketoacidosis, infections, blockage, technical maintenance and…”

“Yes, and?” he coaxed him. He’d already read it all in the list of cons.

“I don’t want to be hooked up to a device for the rest of my life,” he admitted. “It would always be there, visible for everyone.”

_And there it was_.

 

The disembodied scream of a woman was heard from the TV set behind them.

 

“Well, you can’t have it both ways. You’re _too fucking healthy_. I don’t know if it’s a midlife crisis, but you’re not competing with anyone, but _yourself_. Something’s got to go here. I dunno, pick up knitting or something, instead of moving around like some hyped up elf, if you’re so dead set on continuing injecting.”

“Moving around _is_ what makes me happy.”

“And you’ll have to give that up.”

“I _know_ ,” he said, his voice was low, but his body told a different story as he slammed down the lid on the pan. He braced himself with his hands on the counter, staring at empty space in front of him.

Ah shit. Had he pushed him too far? Would Robbie have to take his things and go?

Tentatively, he reached out and put a hand between his shoulders. Alex let out a shaky breath at the contact then leaned into it.

He had promised to talk to him about it, not make him cry!

A fragile silence settled over them.

At the first kernel popping Robbie yelped in surprise and jumped high in the air.

Alex started laughing at his reaction and before they knew it they were both laughing themselves into stitches. There was a lot of pent up nervous energy to let loose. Alex gave him a brief squeeze for a hug but said nothing accompanying it.

 

He’d made his opinion heard. He could leave it at that. It was Alex’s life he told himself, he was a grown man.

 

Alex came to re-join him on the couch, handing him a bowl of the freshly made popcorn and sat down next to him.

He sniffed the contents. “What’s in it? It’s not butter.”

“You can’t tell?” The familiar Cheshire cat grin was back on his face, blinding in the dampened light of the room.

“It smell’s like sunscreen… What is it? I’m serious, stop laughing!”

“It’s,” he had to take a moment to collect himself, snickering, “it’s coconut oil.”

“Is this some other over-the-top health obsession you’re trying to impose on me?”

“No, I just like the taste, the healthy benefits are a bonus. I’ve had to give up a few guilty pleasures, but popcorn is a treat I can grant myself occasionally.”

Robbie thought of his chocolate bars and ice cream. He doubted that it was something like that he’d given up. “So, if you could have anything?”

He pursed his lips in a thoughtful look and said, “I miss _Skyr_.”

“ _Skee-ir?_ ” he tried to imitate the foreign word. _“_ What’s _that?_ ”

“Look it up,” he prompted and took the bowl from Robbie.

He did so, and nearly threw the phone in his face. “I ask if there’s anything _unhealthy_ you’d have if you could. _And you say strained yoghurt?!_ ” his voice rose to an embarrassing pitch on that last word.

“They don’t sell it in the local store,” he laughed and popped a popcorn in his mouth.

“Urgh, anything else then?”

“Dairy products in general.”

“ _Finally!_ ”

“Happy now?” He gave him a lopsided smile.

“It’s a start.”

Alex spilled his next handful on his shirt and he swore under his breath. He had yet to change out of the restricting button up. “I’ll change and get the bedsheets,” he excused himself.

“Uhu,” Robbie hummed and chewed on a mouthful. It could do with more salt.

 

Truth be told, he was still a little curious of the pictures on the media unit next to where Alex had disappeared to.

“Mind if I take a look at the lexicons?” he said in justification to snoop a little more than he’d had time for earlier.

“Sure!” came the answer when Robbie was already inspecting the unit.

“How come you don’t have any trophies or pictures from your _cheerleading_ days?” There were pictures of smiling people, old and young, fair skinned and some bearing resemblance to Alex if you squinted. But none that looked like the ones that Robbie had found when he’d looked up the guy’s former career in gymnastics.

“A few are up in storage, but most of it is at my parents’ house in Iceland. They bring them more joy than they do me.”

“Modest, are we?” he teased.

There was one picture in particular that caught his eye however, placed in the far back and half of it obscured. Like the other photographs he’d inspected prior to that one, he picked it up for scrutiny.

Three men lined up and arms flung over the shoulders of the middle one. All with piercing blue eyes and ridiculous facial hair. The middle one was obviously Alex. He eyed the man to the left, and the features were uncanny like his friend’s. ‘ _Friend_.’ He tasted the word on his tongue. Except that his hair was auburn and sporting a proper real English moustache and not the atrocity he’d grown familiar with. The man to the right however did not look much like the two first gents in the shot. The man had thick jet-black hair and a classical Imperial moustache with screwed up ends over a square face with rosy cheeks. Alex was holding him close to himself with his hand resting on his hip in the same manner that the stuck-up yuppie had held Penny’s.

“Who’s this?” He held up the photograph when Alex came out of the bedroom clutching the linen against his chest, and having changed the button down for a threadbare jumper, soft and hiding his figure under the material, save for the low v-neckline showing his clavicle and then some.

Robbie might make true on the suggestion of having the man locked up after all. He was no better than the drunken crones, was he?

“Oh?” He leaned in close, too close, to look at the photograph and pointed to the auburn one, “that’s my brother, Álfur.”

The owner of the tan jacket then, unless he had more brothers than one. “And this?” He tapped with his thumb to the right.

“That’s Pablo…”

The man Busybody had mentioned at work?

That infuriating almost smile crossed his features, that Robbie was starting to suspect was less of a smile and, though, maybe not as severe as Robbie’s own nervous tics, an unconscious quirk, before he added, “he’s… My ex.”

 

Oh god. The earlier question of the man being back in town had been to tease Alex!

 

Something ugly settled in Robbie’s gut. “You keep pictures of your exes lying around?” he tried to sound droll. Robbie might be biased here, but out of the two in the couple, Alex was the better looking one. Yeah, he was very, very, biased.

“I don’t have many printed pictures of my brother and it felt weird to cut Pablo out, we’re still on friendly terms,” he explained.

Robbie may not have the best track record of that, but he was sure that, that, was about as rare as a mangy unicorn.

“Friendly terms? Is that even a thing?”

“This is also the only picture I know of where he’s not waving around a knife.”

“Whut?”

“Five star chef, and v _ery_ excitable,” he said. He took out his phone and started scrolling. “Here,” he held it up for Robbie to see what he meant.

He wasn’t exaggerating about the knife.

The man, now dressed in apron and rolled up sleeves, looked like he’d been caught in the middle of an exciting argument, face flushed from the heat of the steaming pots and pans and wielding a large kitchen knife pointed at the camera.

“That’s a health hazard.”

He chuckled, “imagine the audio being in rapid Spanish and English.”

The lexicons.

“Spaniard?”

He made a positive noise.

“How’d the language barrier work out?”

Alex plopped down in the couch and scrolled the phone for a little longer then put it away. “Mostly in English, but after a while you start peppering in words from both our native languages. Some words just work better,” he finished with a shrug.

With the same masochistic curiosity as poking an injury to see how bad it’d hurt, Robbie couldn’t help but ask, “how did you meet?” and sat down in his designated end of the couch.

“Live game at a pub between Spain and Iceland, there was a scuffle and I caught him from falling down a flight of stairs in a fight I still think he was partial in starting. He offered to cook me a meal as thanks, while cussing me out for cheering on the _wrong_ team, and that was how it started.”

“How romantic…” he drawled. “Passion and love, huh?” he meant to mock, but something in his words gave the other man pause.

“It was… Something…” A rueful expression graced his features and he took the bowl. “You can love something with a passion. That doesn’t mean that love and passion are the same.” He leaned back in his seat and Robbie wondered if he was quoting something at his next words, it didn’t sound as something he would have formulated on his own, not in English anyway, “passion is more… A figuration of love that has not taken root, it’s wild, untamed, and burns everything down and then moves on.” He had a thoughtful glint in his eyes, looking at the screen and seeming lost in thought for a moment, before he continued, “the breakup was surprisingly undramatic. I think that was the evidence that it was truly over.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Bessie was the most upset about it. She _really_ loved his cooking. But, he wanted to move back to Spain, and I had recently gone through the process of getting my dual citizenship and I had mortgage on this place. I didn’t want to move. Not again.” He added as in afterthought, “you don’t realize how skewed the ownership and distribution of furniture is until you separate. The place was mine but almost all the belongings in it were things he had brought in.”

Okay that was heavier than Robbie had bargained for. “Did it occur to you that you could buy your own stuff afterwards?” he quipped, trying to lighten things up.

“I’ve had it refurbished and I just never got to the point of filling it. I like it like this, feels as I can breathe and I’m free to move around unhindered.”

“There’s a messed up bookshelf back there,” Robbie jabbed a thumb in the direction of the home office, “that begs to differ.” He huffed, “you could at least put up some drapes.”

Alex only shrugged and hummed.

“Did Mario take your sense of home décor with him?”

“Pablo,” he corrected him.

“Looks like a Mario to me.”

He does, doesn’t he?” he snickered.

“And that he should be on the cover of a brand of tomato sauce.”

“Oh, he _is_. And a couple of cookbooks.”

“Eewww,” Robbie complained.

The snickering quieted down. “Are you thinking of calling that receptionist?”

Where the hell did that question come from? He fished out the wrinkled piece of paper he’d gotten out of the overnight bag. Very old fashioned. Paper, ugh.

He chanced. “Might be good for a fun time, but I don’t think for a long time… I’m not sure,” he admitted. “He was a jerk when I had my interview with Bessie.” Then again, so had Alex been when they’d first met.

“Don’t limit yourself to _settle_ , Robbie. You shouldn’t go out with him if you’re not interested.”

He blinked and raised his brow in astonishment. “Doesn’t these talks usually go somewhere along the lines of; that I should give him a chance, because he might turn out to be really nice?”

“Do you _want_ to go out with him? Not just for _a fun time?_ ”

“Dunno,” he crinkled and smoothed out the piece of paper as he spoke, “it would be nice to go with someone that can live with how you look in decent room lightning.”

“There is nothing wrong with how you look.”

Easy for him to say. “Then _you_ can write my dating profile.” Having _the very man he wanted_ trying to set him up. That had to be the lowest point in his non-existent love life.

“Tall, dark, great singer,” he started to count on his fingers.

“Singer?!”  He near tore the paper.

Alex gave him a mischievous and oh so smug look. “I’ve heard you sing in the music room when you think you’re alone.”

“I’m going to call the circus and see if they have any cannons available.” Then he’d die of humiliation.

“I’m just saying there are other options out there.”

Of course there were options. Especially if you wanted something with no strings attached.

“What about you?” he asked, feeling how his mouth had gone dry. “Oh, great love guru.”

“I’ll know it when I encounter it.”

“No one?” Unless he was still on and off seeing this chef guy. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit.

“Nothing that led to anything,” he said flippantly and toyed with a couple of kernels that had failed to pop.

 

He was a good decade older than him, and Robbie wondered if he was more lenient to the traditional offline ways of hooking up. He tried to imagine Alex walking along the venues Robbie ventured. Communicating by nonverbal codes that would be reciprocated if there was an interest. A nod, tapping his foot while at an unassuming urinal, a lingering glance turning piercing in passing by.

He didn’t know about this town and since he worked with youths he didn’t want to be recognised here either. “The town next over has a good spot for cruising.” Something for the moment, then he’d go back home when both parties had gotten what they wanted and current locations going out of close range on the phone app. Sometimes ending up in bed over the night. Never his own. The fact that he hadn’t had the time or energy to go out since December was not needed to bring up. Ever. He should marry his hand.

Alex dropped the kernels and let them clatter around at the bottom of the empty bowl. “Are you safe?” he asked and turned all attention on him.

He shrugged. “I got condoms.”

“No, I mean, you’re not going out _alone?_ ”

“It rarely starts out like a group activity, now does it?”

Alex winced. “Promise me that you’re careful.”

“If you get the fucking pump, I might.” He was not above extortion, and if he was going to start up then Robbie was more than willing to call him out on his own selfishness. Alex had no place to judge and say how he should lead his life, not with how he was currently leading his own.

“That is not the same thing.”

“Maybe not to you.” Of course he knew that it came with huge risks! STIs was the _least_ of his worries when going out. “How about this? I’ll die a sex abstinence spinster, and you’ll talk to your endro-something-doctor.”

“Robbie…”

He was not to be deterred. “Deal?”

“I…” He worked his jaw, then said, “if you _also_ promise to improve your own health. Starting with broccoli. You _need_ a natural source of vitamins.”

Robbie grimaced. Seriously? Why this obsession with his dietary habits?! Alright then, he could force down one, by that exact number, piece of broccoli, if it meant that the man would hold up his end of the bargain. “Fine,” he groused.

Alex sank back in the couch, seeming pleased with the compromise. Asshole.

“You’re very, very, lucky that I like you, you, _Sports-elf_.”

“ _Sports-elf?!_ ” he gaped.

“I’m running out of nicknames, okay, don’t pressure me.”

He laughed, “that’s just,” and letting out an undignified snort, “I could kiss you.”

 

Could. But wouldn’t.

 

For a moment, he imagined what if he’d put away the bowl and leaned in to steal one from him, only for the man to push him away and say that it was only a figure of speech and then everything would be awkward and ruined.

No.

“You are infuriating,” he replied instead with a grin that hurt. “How did you even end up here to torment me?”

“Pure chance, I think. I needed a change of scenery after I retired from gymnastics and coming to a different country through a work offer took some heat off my back.” That thoughtful look was back with a vengeance. “My family knew I was gay, and a few select friends. I kept my love life out of the public eye throughout my career.”

“Why?”

“You said it yourself,” he shrugged, “ _glorified cheerleader_. It’s not football or hockey, not a traditionally masculine sport. They didn’t need me feeding the stereotype.”

“Oh.” He regretted the words, though it had been fun to tease about it, it was true.

“It’s funny, looking back on it now. I tore my knee in a skiing accident, I got stuck on literally the only tree stump under the snow and snapped the ligament clean off.” He snapped his knuckles against each other in opposite directions for illustration and which Robbie now wished he hadn’t.

“Oh, oww, _fuck owwww_ ,” Robbie winced and screwed up his face. “Thanks for that mental image.”

“I’m pretty sure I said some more colourful words than that, but what I mean is, it was the worst _and_ best thing to happen. When the physical therapy didn’t take as I wished and was demanded of me, I got to explore other options that I had only entertained in theory. My brother is a fireman and both my parents are nurses… You could say that the drive to help runs in the family. It also got the spotlight off me and I didn’t have to hide who I was attracted to anymore. Life becomes beautiful like that.”

“And more dangerous.” There was always an overhanging threat. Robbie wasn’t as easily assumed for straight, nor did he want to, but it came at a price. He’d known people that _hated_ what he was and the promise, that if anyone figured out that he was homo he’d find himself beaten to death in a good ol’ lynching, and it was one of the reasons he had cut ties and moved far away where he could start anew.

They had both reinvented themselves in a way, hadn’t they? Though, Alex’s family was still in the picture.

Robbie’s was probably none the wiser.

“Yeah… I didn’t tell or show any indication when I worked at the assisted housing.” Understandable, the kids and youths there would have made working there pure hell.

“How come you never told Penny? About the housing?”

“Disclosures. It’s easier to not mention anything about it than only telling bits and pieces.”

That… Made sense.

“I’m sorry about… Bessie told me I bruised your hand on your first day. I thought that you were going to squeeze first and…” He gestured before him.

Robbie’s jaw dropped. “Wha, how, what, what made you think that?”

“You‘re tall and I was intimidated!” His face was spotted with a flush creeping up all the way from his chest. “And after working at the housing and seeing your background check I thought… I don’t know. I’m sorry!”

“I am speechless… I _was_ going to offer helping you with your bike, because the place you had it over to did a botch job. But, I take it all back now.” He _had_ noticed the botched job, so that part was true at least.

“Should I add that to your profile?”

“Shut up, and watch the rest of the cast get decimated by extinct lizards in peaceful silence.”

 

He’d set the sound of the TV on mute shortly after Alex’s breathing had evened out and started to lean against him. Not an evening person he gathered. And it had been quite the day.

His alarm for when he should check his values and his next dose would be in a little while, until then, he’d enjoy what he could have.

This living space was starting to make a little more sense to him in means of representation. Neat and spotless on the surface but like the mess behind the mystery door number two it was far more chaotic and _human_.

He let all the information sink in.

 

Alex.

 

Alex, whose single-minded determination had brought him to the European championships while keeping his sexuality hidden from the public eye. Whose career had been cut short when he’d been at the top of his game by an out of the blue accident. Who’d spent years trying to help the reluctant and unhealable. Tried to erase every trace of his ex but unable to take the final step and _still_ carried around pictures of the man.

And then his own body had turned on him it had seemed, with a disease that threatened to take away what joy he had in life.

With the same single-mindedness as before, was clinging for what little control he had by sectioning everything up and in routines.

 

He let Alex settle against him and did so in turn, playing with the rough texture of the jeans covering the man’s knee and let his hand settle there. Just a few minutes more.

 

He must’ve fallen asleep, he woke up lying down sometime much later, eyes dry and uncomfortable from the makeup he hadn’t washed off and he realised that he was alone in the now dark room, lying on his side with a pillow under his head and a duvet over him, and the bedsheet still neatly folded on the armrest by his head. 

 

Alex got the insulin pump.

The pump looked like an old freestyler, or a beeper from those hospital shows, and was the size of a deck of cards. Easy to fit in a pocket or clip on in the waist. He’d seen pictures of the device, but seeing in real life the tubing connect into Alex’s abdomen by an infusion set was something completely else.

And Robbie was forced to eat a piece of broccoli from then on. It tasted just as awful as expected, but, he couldn’t have it both ways either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got family staying over so next update will have to wait a little while.
> 
> And:
> 
> ÍþróttaÁLFURinn 
> 
> No Pablo bashin' aight I love that stereotypical goofball.


	16. Of water works and water damages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie has a rough day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was immensely blessed by Walstra's artistry that I've included at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Another long chapter with dialogue.

Fascinating really, how things could be going so well on one front, and completely down the shitter on another.

His working relationships had gotten infinitely better, especially between Alex and him and with there having been more outside of work interactions between them since the first time he’d stayed over at the man’s place.

And, he had been right. The storage unit had been absolutely stuffed with all sorts of crap. But, they did find some surprisingly vibrant red, not blue, _red_ , drapes that he’d bullied him to put up. It was easier to help others with their stuff than resolving his own mess. Both material and emotional ones. As for that he couldn’t help, but note that the group photo containing his ex was gone, nor the funny feeling in his stomach that he might have something to do with that, and the voice in his head telling him that it would not change things for Robbie personally. They were better as friends he told himself, he didn’t want to risk what they had by telling him how he felt. He told himself this like a mantra at this rate.

And as sorting through messes and pushing to put up the drapes, directness seemed to be the only way with the man. If him acquiring the pump was any indication.

The pump... Penny had hugged Robbie after she’d seen it. He was still a little shell-shocked from that. At least she hadn’t cried.

The glucose monitor was easier to hide than the tube running from under his shirt and the cartridge in his pocket. Though, when he was wearing his old _Sportacus_ hoodie it was harder to spot the tubing, but when inside and without the threadbare clothing, you could see the aid through his tight T-shirts with the infusion set leaving an imprint.

 

When Alex had been mobbed by the middle schoolers when they’d first seen the device he was hooked up to, he'd taken the opportunity to educate the children and it had been an interesting thing to watch the man try to explain his condition to them. ‘ _This patch helps me and warns me if I_ _’m in trouble, and this pump supplies me with insulin through this tube and this infusion set,_ ’ he’d said, or something along those lines. And then explaining the differences between the two types of diabetes. Alex had admitted at a later date that he was worried about Ziggy’s sugar addiction. Not much to do there, Robbie had argued. They weren’t his parents, they couldn't refuse him in the kiosk from buying anything than Nature's bad excuse of candy, not without questions being asked about their policy of acceptance and whatnot, and if Alex wanted to have that talk with the mother next time she came around, then by all means. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it went hand in hand to the man’s dislike of the kiosk… Which Robbie was spending most of his time in of lately.

 

And he was starting to hate it himself.

 

Today was not a good day in Robbie’s book. Nothing bad had happened this day specifically, he just felt that enough things had been amassing to make it a bad one.

He should expect the moustache to get shaved off now any minute. Since Ella seemed to have joined the ranks of noisy hooligans after their _First Day of Summer_ disco they’d hosted last weekend and the pink one and she had discovered their joint interest in dancing. School was out for summer and Robbie felt like he did nothing but sell ice cream and sodas to a horde of ungrateful kids. So, while the youth leaders were prepping for outdoor activities and individual holidays, he was stuck selling cold treats thanks to the warmer weather outside. Only time he was outside the kiosk was to look at his work mail before they opened for the public, or to tidy up after everyone.

Robbie was tense, balancing on the knife’s edge with a certain type of misery trying to crawl its way from his chest and up his throat. Ten more minutes then he could scurry off for a breaktime breakdown. Ten more minutes…

He hit his head on the underside of the counter and bit back a profanity not suited for anyone’s ears, feeling his eyes prickling and breathing through the pain.

What the fuck was he doing with his life?

Had he’d gone through years of studies and scraping by, _just to end up selling ice cream?!_

Oh, he knew perfectly well what it was that broke the camel’s back.

Not the odd feeling of abandonment, or isolation by the cash register, or his growing overall frustration with his life.

It was his fucking excuse of a home.

And money he’d been saving up since he got his job, that he now had to kiss goodbye.

For what little it was worth, disaster had struck while he was home. He could only imagine the flood in his basement that would’ve greeted him if the water heater had come off the wall during his working hours.

As it was; it wouldn’t have been as much of a disaster _, if it hadn_ _’t taken a good chunk of the wall with it!_ The appliance was beyond saving he’d discovered to his outrage. He’d put it in himself, there wasn’t anything wrong on that end, that he was sure of, but the house seemed to reject any and all attempt of improvement like a transplant rejection of a new vital organ.

He wondered what that had to say about him in form of symbolic presentation.

 

Screw it. He said in passing to Penny with a volunteer that he was taking his break and scurried off.

 

Robbie shut himself in the toilet in the men’s locker room and sank to the floor by the sink.

 

Not knowing quite why, but a stray thought of what his dad would have to say about his pitiful state crossed his mind. Men did not present themselves as sissies, and men did not fall in love with their best friend. It was pretty easy to fill that slot when you only had one close friend in your adult life, the first genuine friend he’d had since he’d been, what, in middle school?

And, men did most certainly not cry.

Yet here he was, doing all three things simultaneously.

Good job there.

 

He didn’t know how long he got to sit in peace and sob, but he’d bet that it was less than a handful of minutes when his solitude was disrupted.

A light knock on the door and a familiar muffled voice came through the other side, “Robbie?”

Alex, why wasn’t he surprised one bit. “ _Go away_ ,” he snapped. Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. Now the man knew that something was wrong.

“Are you alright?” Voice full of worry this time.

“Take a guess.”

A pause, then, “do you think you could let me in?”

His private pity party was already ruined anyway. “I’m not going to open it, if you want to you’ll have to get in on your own.”

“Okay.”

 

He heard the man leave, but he was soon enough back.

 

“Robbie, I’m going to open this door, okay?” he warned before a click and the lock flipping to unlocked. From his angle he saw him pocketing a set with hex keys he must’ve borrowed from the ever elusive internal services as he slowly opened the door to peek inside. He spotted him sitting on the floor and went down on his level. “Robbie?”

 

He should’ve used the gender-neutral changing room. It was rarely used, and no one would have bothered to look there.

 

“I can’t even do that right,” he mumbled into his knees.

“What?”

“I said _, I can_ _’t even do that right!_ ” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, he just wanted to be alone until he’d found his own centre, wash his face and reapply his makeup before his break was over. That was apparently too much to ask for.

“Are you hurt?”

Damaged goods perhaps. “No. Why are you here?”

“Penny told me that you’d gone here. I was worried that you had a bad reaction to something again.”

Naturally.

“Close the door behind you, if you insist on violating my privacy.”

He did as told, and sat down across from him in the narrow restroom. His left knee against Robbie’s own left one in their cramped space.

Robbie was the first to break the silence, glaring at the intruder as he said, “I could have been using the toilet, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for encroaching like this. I heard you crying… What happened?”

He shrugged. “Everything. Nothing.”

His forehead furrowed at the dismissive answer. “Doesn’t look like nothing. You don’t have to tell me, but it might help,” he said softer.

Unless Alex was by magic going to fix his house and bank account, then he didn’t think there was much practical help to offer. “The fucking water heater fell and tore a part of the wall in the basement. And now all my savings will have to go to mending it and getting a new heater out to bumfuck nowhere.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I should get used to it. It has been a while since it decided to shaft me like that.”

The furrow turned into a scowl. “I can only speak on what I’ve understood about your place, but it seems to cause you a great deal of stress.”

“No shit.” He’d been hopeful when the purchase had gone through and he’d moved in. Now? Now he’d rather torch the place -with him still inside being optional.

“I don’t think that it’s a good place for you.”

And what the fuck did he know about that? “And sleeping on the kitchen floor with a bunch of other guys with a dodgy thirdhand sublet is?” he sneered.

“No, no of course not,” he tried to placate him, whatever good that would do them both. “I mean…” he rubbed his mouth before he continued, “it’s better than what you had.”

“Which was nothing,” he interjected.

“And,” pressing on, “as a transition, it’s probably what you needed. But, it doesn’t have to be ‘ _as good as it going to get_ _’_. A house is a lot of responsibility and upkeep, both economically and-”

“I _know_ all that. If I could, don’t you think I would have gotten something else? Mr. _I got a condo_.”

“Robbie-” Alex was to object.

“No, you got your bank and mortgage and whatnot,” he flared up. “When I wanted to have _my own_ place, where no one can throw me out on a whim, they took one look at my history and my annual income, which up until now, was zero, and they shut me down. This _is_ as good as it’ll get for me!”

If Robbie had expected a response of sorts, this is what he got instead. “If you don’t qualify for a mortgage, then how did you afford it?”

“Bailiff auctions only care that you can pay up front. No mortgage, except a municipal fee. The land is useless, and it kept the assess value within what I could afford after I had used the life insurance to pay off the damages I’d caused.” The other nodded and Robbie continued, frustration growing, “I’m up to my neck in student loans and all my savings from since I got this job will go into getting a new water heater and fixing the fucking basement!” He tried to kick the wall in a burst of anger sending a jolt from his heel up his leg and hip. Alex flinched but didn’t make any greater move away from him. “I should burn the place to the ground! Take out everything worth saving to the sheds and call the fire department to have a go at it as a fire drill! You’re brother’s a fireman, right? We could get him in on it, make it an international exercise or something!”

“I don’t think that’s the answer.”

“ _Then what is?!_ ”

No reply save for the man’s lips drawn in a thin line and a pinched expression.

“Yeah, thought so.” He rubbed a hand over his face, he must look like a wreck, and tilted his head back against the cool tiles. “Look, I got this. The damage is done and there’s nothing you can do to help.”

The man didn't seem to listen to that. “What about house insurance? Your family, can they help?”

He outright laughed at the absurdity, catching on a frenetic edge. “My family is the last place I’d ever go. If they didn’t hate me before, then after the life insurance crap they sure do. Imagine me calling out of the blue. _Hi, it_ _’s me Robert Junior, the screw up. I need money to help fix up the hovel I bought with the money Glanni left me._ ”

“You’re not a screw up.”

“Tell that to my parents. They don’t even know that I’m gay. Perfect family with traditional gender assigned professions. Dad the handyman and mechanic, and mum the hairdresser. And me, secretly playing with dolls and pretty dresses before I got caught and chewed out. They’d _love_ that, more than that I used what I knew about mechanics to steal cars. Or, exposed my little brothers to all sorts of shit.”

Shit like finding the stash he was keeping for safekeeping, or when Bobby and Tobby had run into him downtown when he’d been off his fucking face.

He felt sick to his stomach thinking back on it.

“You’re family doesn’t know that you’re gay?”

 _That_ _’s_ what he decided to focus on? “They don’t know, as far as _I_ know. I haven’t seen them since I was eighteen. I didn’t come out until I was twenty three. They want nothing with me because of all the illegal shit I did under their roof… My baby brother found a handgun and came running down the kitchen to play.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as he gasped, “oh no.”

“It wasn’t loaded, I was storing it for someone else. But, all hell broke loose.” It had been a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. He didn't like to think back on it.

“Were,” he worried his lip in unease, “were you thrown out?”

“I left on my own, after all the shit I put them through. It was in silent agreement that I would be out of the house when I came of age. I didn’t even wait for that. Two months before I turned eighteen I packed all I could carry and then some that I could-” God, he couldn’t say it out loud.

“Robbie?”

“I took my mum’s jewellery,” he choked out. “The pieces that were in the far back that they wouldn’t miss until later.”

He wasn’t emotionally good at the moment, and he felt how he started crying again against his own wishes in front of the other man.

“I stole from my brothers, money out of relatives’ wallets when they weren’t looking, tools out of dad’s shop, mum’s purse. I’m a thief and a tramp and a-,” he choked up again. “The record is only the tip of the iceberg. Those are only the things I got caught for.”

“Prostitution?”

He could sort of understand that he’d ask that, but it still made him angry. “ _No_.” Disgust went through his frame. “I can’t speak for the people around me though.” There had been some dumb shit going on. The unlawful and the shadow community wasn’t exactly known for being feministic, fair, or pro tolerance in any sense.

“Sorry,” he said in apology. “Do you miss your family?”

Did they train them to ask these types of questions, or was it just Alex? The answer to that was a complicated one. His relationship to his parents had been difficult. He’d fought so many times with his father, and his mother had held him at standards as the oldest child that he just couldn’t live up to. He was bitter over that not only his school had failed to pick up on his special needs, but his family as well. “I miss my brothers.” If they missed him, he wasn’t so sure of. The twins had been fifteen and Flobby, the quiet one and that Robbie saw the most of himself in when looking back on past events, had been ten when he’d run off. “I’m the oldest of four.” He let out a tired hum, “we joked that our parents wanted a girl, but after four boys they gave up. “Me, Bo and Toby, twins… And Flores. _Robbie_ , _Bobby_ , _Tobby_ and _Flobby_.”

He gave him a watery smile. “You sound like a band.”

“I know.” He hid face with a groan. It had been of their equal amusement and chagrin growing up.

“Flores doesn’t sound like a usual name around here.”

“Family tradition on mum’s side. At least one out of every generation has a weird name. Glanni is another one, for example.”

“It’s a waterfall in Iceland.”

Alex’s home country. “Flores is a sea somewhere in Indonesia, I think. I believe I’m seeing a pattern here.”

“Could be worse, my parents named my brother Álfur.”

“Is it unusual?”

“Not as much as that it literally translates to elf.”

“Your parents named your brother _elf?_ ”

He smiled wide and nodded his head. “Yes.” The smile faltered when he spoke again, “… I only have my older brother. I can’t imagine how it’s like to have three younger ones.”

“Is he much older?” He didn’t look it by much in the picture he’d seen, but then again, Alex didn’t look like he was going on forty-one.

“Two years. We… We were each other’s best friends and worst enemies, because we were so much like each other. Getting into gymnastics was my way of creating my own identity.”

And Robbie had become the troublemaker when he couldn’t live up to the trope of the oldest, the responsible one. “Yeah, I get that, sort of. Being the oldest… I couldn’t cope. I was the one to set an example they kept saying. One fucking example I set.”

“What was the turning point? What made you get out?”

 

Not a specific turning point, but as this day for example it was a result of many things.

And that’s how he came to spill his guts. About the endless fights with his parents when his grades had plummeted at a young age and interests outside of the traditional masculine, the bullying, more fighting, how he’d been chatted up and seduced into a group of perpetrators like the one that had hung outside the school across their own field -because they were the only people that seemed to _get him_ and a way out of his tense overcrowded home. The irony, that it wasn’t his fraudulent uncle that had gotten him entangled in crimes. It was thrilling, and horrible. Homophobia that was killing him because he’d known that he was gay, but it was better to hide in the ranks than become a victim. A go getter guy on the fringe of the gang when they wanted his specific skillset. And the turning point when he was twenty-one. He’d been toying with the idea of disappearing, somewhere else, out of the backwater town that pretended that everything was dandy, but where the underbelly where his kind dwelled was ever present, where its best upstanding citizens were also their best customers. And a group of those he did trust around himself got into their heads that they could go big and pay off some collectors in the process. With a fucking half assed robbery.

 

“I was supposed to be with them. But, I pulled out last second, I chugged a container with tomato juice and carrots to set off an allergic reaction. I was vomiting out my guts and shaking on the floor just so that I didn’t have to do it.”

Alex had been sitting quietly by and let Robbie spill everything, until that bit and he gasped, “you, you _poisoned_ yourself?”

He jostled his shoulders, he’d been desperate enough. “No money, surrounded by perpetrators of violence that bragged about beating up fags, and the only ‘ _decent_ ’ people I knew were junkies that had gotten themselves in jail. Hell, the youngest of them had just turned eighteen, still a goddamn kid. I needed to get out and spent years drifting about… Why are _you_ crying?”

He gave him a small smile at his remark and sniffled. His eyes were red rimmed and had a glassy sheen from the tears that had started to escape, making the intense blue of his irises stand out that more. “Because...” He swore and wiped his eyes with his free hand. The other had come to rest and hug Robbie’s legs sometime into the sob story. “You’re so incredible strong. You’ve come so far on our own and you don’t see that because you don’t have anyone else, but yourself, to compare with.”

Robbie wasn’t so sure if it was him the teary eyed man was describing. “Yeah, sure,” he argued back, “money after the asshole uncle kicked the bucket had nothing to do with it.”

“It helps, but, it takes incredible willpower, to want to be and do better. I’ve dealt with juveniles that needed to be kept in check every step of the way and even long after that, never becoming independent functional individuals. Even _I_ needed help by my friends and family after my accident. It took all of you to make me get my diabetic aid. Mostly _you_ , actually. You’ve done so much for us and we’ve given you so little back here at the centre.”

“Yeah, how will the kiosk carry on without me? And give a monkey my spelling aid and they could send the mail,” he muttered. “You youth leaders got it figured with the job.”

“Robbie, do you not think of yourself as a recreational youth leader here too?” He sagged back, looking upset. “You _are_. You are as much equal to Penny and me, you’ve been picking up _our slack_ because _we_ haven’t been doing our jobs properly. I’ve been running around with the younger visitors because it’s fun, but I need to step up and take care of the administrative work and the less fun activities. I more than owe you that after how we’ve been exploiting and taken you for granted. Bessie just found out that the internal services personnel have been manipulating their hours and skipping turning in sometimes. It took this long to discover it, because you’ve been doing the internal service’s job as well.”

“So, I’ve done the janitor’s job. Marvellous.”

“And we would have picked up on it if _I_ had been doing my job. Instead of…” He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. “The reason I was looking for you earlier is because Jives came by.”

He had? He must’ve missed it being headfirst down in the freezer.

“He told me what you’d done for him.”

Oh no. Robbie hadn’t told him about that. There had been a strict _don_ _’t mention Jives_ clause in their friendship.

Alex saw his alarmed expression. “You did good. You did _great_ ,” he tried to reassure him. “The older kids, the teens, they like you the best. You know how to handle them and approach those that are more interested in the calmer sedentary activities.” He looked him in the eye and smiled gently as he spoke, “you complement us all here.”

 

Robbie was speechless and all he could do was give a positive nod. He managed out a small rasped, “ _thanks,_ ” after coaxing his vocal cord to produce some kind of sound after a long while.

 

He smiled at him again. “C’mon, what do you say about getting off this floor and get you something up in the office? You’re probably dehydrated.”

He hummed. There was a dull ache behind his eyes and his sinuses.

Neither made a move to get up.

Alex was drawing circles with his thumb over Robbie’s knee. “I know there isn’t much I can do about your water heater or your house, but, I want to help you in any way I can.”

“No offense, but unless you’re a plumber, then I’d suggest that you sit this one out.” It was more than even Robbie was capable of.

“Is there anything I can do until you’ve had it fixed? You’re more than welcome to stay at my place, or use the shower, anything. I care about you… And you’re not alone.” He’d stopped drawing circles and hugged Robbie’s knees to lean against him in lieu of a real hug where they were crammed in.

 

Well, _damn._

 

“Have you had your snack from the fruit bowl again?”

“I have, just recently… Why?” Alex blinked in confusion.

 

‘ _Because I really want to kiss you._ ’

 

“Just wondered if I had counted right before I locked myself in here.” This was for the better.

“I’m sure you did, don’t worry.”

He chewed his lip. “When I’ve gotten the water heater fixed. You could come over to visit yourself? Perhaps?”

God, what was wrong with him? Why did he have to go and do that?

“I’d love to,” the other man replied, grin brighter than the sun. “I’d love to see how you live.”

 

 

* * *

 

[ ](https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipM6M8vYC5szeOOXSuTp34UDKq8wQoXtm75boAZwO2i6XmrvIn3Gj_LQIqh8M9oD0Q?key=VzhnemNMZmI4NGlPZG9mQ0R1cU5PUEpNZllHOUd3&source=ctrlq.org)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a thousand thanks for the artist, you nailed it!
> 
> Naming the dream team is the worst.  
> And I'm super uncomfortable writing sob story backgrounds or whatever (main reason why "Findind Common Ground" is currently on ice). Thinking them up? Yeah sure. Actually writing them? Uuuuhnnhnhnnnnooooooooouuhh.
> 
> To cheer y'all up, here have a sad [love story between a water heater and a car](https://www.woodharbinger.com/water-heater-fell-love-car-appliance-love-tragedy/) I found!


	17. This house is sort of a home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anxiety of inviting new people, or in Robbie's case for the first time ever, into your home.  
> Also the recliner makes a brief cameo and Alex is concerned about its sheer existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw the picture of Maggi's dog and knew what I had to do.  
> Also, this chapter fought me all the way.

Somewhere close by crickets were playing.

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he could already feel his nose become itchy from standing outside by the grassy ditch with its trench flowers and he swore under his breath for not having taken his antihistamines, among other things, as he’d thrown himself out the front door and down the road when he’d seen the time.

Robbie was standing by the bus stop out by the country road in the blazing afternoon sun and without any accessible shade to hide in. Every now and then a breeze would take pity on him, yet not enough to give him respite and he pulled on his cotton jumper in dusty lilac for the umpteenth time. It was too damn hot outside. It was mid-June, he should’ve gone for something else! Ugh. Done was done he supposed. It was too late to run back and change, the Saturday bus coming through from town should be here any minute, if it ran on schedule.

He’d tidied up the place like never before and now the entire building smelled of soft soap. It had taken him the whole morning and noon, a violation of his human rights by being forced up that early, leaving almost no time for him to make himself presentable, only giving him mere moments to do something about his own personal appearance, before he had to go out to the bus stop to greet the man. There was no way to sugar-coat it, he had a bad hair day and nothing short of a shower and completely redoing the hairstyle would salvage it, it barely stayed in place thanks to a large amount of hair products. Worrying over his looks was ridiculous, he tried to convince himself. But, he had never entertained guests before. No one, sans repairmen, had seen his home and now the thought of letting someone in, especially if that someone was Alex, was nerve-racking.

He only had himself to blame, _he_ was after all the one to have proposed that Alex should come over to visit after the basement had been dealt with, being the idiot that he was.

And when the man had asked if he could come to stay over this weekend, Robbie, yet again being the massive idiot that he was, had said _yes_.

So, here he was. Suffering.

 

The excited grin was all the warning he got when the bus’s doors opened.

 

Alex practically leapt into him from the step off to the asphalt.

“Hi, Robbie!”

He tried to reply, but what came out sounded more like a ‘ _hurghey._ ’ Apparently, as all evidence pointed to, Alex was a touchy feely guy once comfortable enough, and Robbie had some very mixed feelings about that.

 

Walking the stretch to his home they filled the air with nonsense, safe subjects, about the bus and then things relating to work and their scheduled summer holidays, starting with Penny and ending with Alex.

His own was in another week… Paid vacation. He still couldn’t believe it.

Busybody had set up a schedule for their personal, well, Penny’s and Busybody’s personal, requests so that there would be at the minimum two out of the regular staff working at all times to wrangle the temps and with Alex to handle their superior’s administrative duties in her absence. He himself didn’t seem all too thrilled about that part, but he had promised to take on more of the _boring_ aspects of the job after all.

 

Robbie didn’t know if it was the fear of becoming permanently sedentary, however he thought better than to ask.

 

The driveway leading up to his house from the country road was more dirt than gravel and the only reason that it wasn’t completely overgrown in tall grass, like the yard was, was solely because he had doused it in herbicides and salt. He’d stop trying to actively kill nature when nature stopped trying to off him, he reasoned.

“If you think the façade is bad, wait until you see the inside,” he joked weakly as they approached, knowing full well that it was quite the sight to take in, and Alex did indeed take in the sight of the wooden two story building up ahead with its wonky placement of its large windows and mansard roof that had been all the craze during that era. In his feeble defence, he had repainted it years ago in what could pass for periwinkle. He’d done everything by the book, minus the safety measures, and barely one year later the new coat of paint had started to peel. Something about it being too humid, no thanks to the surrounding peatlands. Just another thing the house and he was disagreeing on.

“It’s beautiful out here, but… Doesn’t it get lonely?” Alex mused aloud, referring to their surroundings.

“Eh, closest neighbour is thataway,” he pointed down the way they’d come, “about two kilometres or so.” He added, “it’s one of the charms with the place, really. No noisy people.”

Nothing, but conifers and rocks. Welcome to Bumfuck nowhere. Population: One reclusive bumfucker.

Alex hummed in response, eyeing what was left of the garage and the sheds spread around them, lingering at the hammock and the clothing line, before he came to a halt by the entrance. “Uhm,” he sounded and pointed up to the side of the building, “Robbie?”

He followed with his gaze and chortled. “What, you’ve never seen a TV satellite dish?”

“…Is that legal?”

“I have no idea, to be honest. I pay no television fee or bill, so it’s probably not.” His invoices consisted mostly of water and electricity. He was probably dodging a couple of more fees come think of it. No wired internet either, he got a signal and connection on his phone though.

His guest pulled a face, however remained quiet, scrutinising the dish. And then took him by surprised by asking, “do you think you could get foreign channels on it?”

He snorted in amusement, it was practically all he got on it. “Tunisian soap operas are a riot, let me tell you. But I’m not climbing up to alter it for you, so you can watch someone out on the tundra conversing with arctic foxes. I nearly killed myself putting it up in the first place.”

Not an understatement. He wasn’t going anywhere up there again anytime soon.

 

Inside Alex bent down to undo his shoes. “No, no. Don’t take off your shoes. The floorboards on the ground floor aren’t safe. It’s clean, but, unless you want splinters and a tetanus shot, keep your shoes on. I’ll find you some slippers later.”

“Oh,” and straightened up again.

“So, uhm. Welcome to Casa del Rotten? The house that higher powers forgot.”

“It’s not _that_ bad, Robbie,” he said, still standing in the vestibule, so he’d barely seen anything yet.

“Maybe I’ve painted a worse picture of it, so you wouldn’t be completely horrified? Though, you should have seen it when I moved in.” The previous owner had had a go at it that would have disheartened or plain scared off anyone not being yours truly. He was still wrapping his head around what they had been aiming to accomplish. Let alone what the original builders had had in mind.

He pointed to their right. “Bathroom with a tub behind that door,” he pointed to the curved stairs and the door beneath, “upstairs bedroom, and basement behind there,” as he took them inside into the heart with the modest kitchen with its small table with two chairs.

“It’s rustic,” he said from behind him.

 _Rustic_ , meaning it was _rough_ and _crude_. “It’s an old house,” he said and turned to him.

Alex nodded along. “Yes.”

Sided to the kitchen was the small narrow room he’d recently designated as the guestroom. Up until recently it had been for downstairs storage, but after cleaning up, he’d put in an old drawer and the extra bed he’d used back when he’d moved in. “I’d move in here myself, if it wasn’t for the mosquitos.” Maybe he could during the winter, he mused. He did spend the majority of his time on this floor anyway.

“So, I’m getting it instead? _Wow_ ,” Alex jested and put down his grey backpack containing his overnight things on the foldable bed. Judging by the sound emitting from it, it was containing more extra insulin delivery devices and backup supplies than clothing articles. Its owner winced from the noise.

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned with his shoulder against the wall. “Did you bring the whole pharmacy?”

“I might have overdone it a bit,” Alex said somewhat self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck, looking up to meet and inadvertently hold his gaze.

This was probably the first time he’d gone away somewhere since Christmas and his proper diagnosis, and _now_ with all the _technical accessories_ he depended on.

 

All for in case something happened.

 

How could someone be so physically strong, and so _fragile_ at the same time?

 

Alex broke the silent spell first. “I assume there’s more of the house to see?”

 

_Okay. Show him the inside of the house before dinner._

_He could do this._

 

He’d been ready for some reaction of sorts at the unique piece of personal belonging in the sitting room. “My recliner,” he said when the other’s voice had died in their throat.

Alex was gaping in what was either astonishment or pure horror. “Where did you…? _What…?_ ” Gesturing towards the kitsch furniture before the TV-set.

“I found it online.” If his obvious shock wasn’t that amusing, he’d worry that he’d accidentally broken the man’s psyche. “I’ll have you know it’s very comfortable and I find the texture of the faux fur very soothing.”

“Uhu,” he sounded, still looking like a cartoon figure with how big his eyes were.

“You can try it.” A forbidden thought that they both could fit in it crossed his mind.

“I’ll… Maybe later?” he said and turned away from the recliner. “What happened here?” There was a portion of the flooring in different wood boards than the rest.

Of course he’d noticed, it was practically taking up a good third of the room. “Previous owner got into their head to break up the floor there and then leave a gaping hole.” The whole _sitting_ _area_ was a _problem_ _area_ and after picking up and putting away the assortment of knickknacks he had spread out, the room was nearly empty.

Well, at least _he_ had curtains.

He entertained the thought that he could move in the kitchen table there instead. However, entertaining an idea, and going through with it, was a whole other matter. He needed to do something about the floorboards before he’d do anything drastic and that took time and money he no longer had. And, the small table would look ridiculous on its own in the large room. Like a fuzzy armchair and TV-set didn’t? At the core, the issue was that the space was made for a larger dining set for a bigger family... Better not go there, it did him no good…

He must’ve gone quiet for too long looking at the spot, the man was in turn looking at _him_ with an odd expression on his face, and he filled the silence with, “I need to replace all the boards and get new floor insulation, no use sanding it, but that will have to wait until I can afford it.”

Alex nodded dumbly.

He never should have invited him over, he berated himself. “Okay, basement,” he said a little too loud and marched to the entrance to open the door leading under the stairs and cooling temperatures for the damnable jumper he _still_ wore.

Flicking on the light switch he gestured at the, for lack of better words, _grotto_ under the house. “So, uh, this is where I had to redo the wall... The new water heater that will hopefully stay put,” a large freezer, “this is where I’ll keep the bodies when I finally snap,” passing thought, “and further in is the washing room.” The whole area still smelled of wall filler and paint and something else.

Which the man voiced, wrinkling his nose, “I think you’ve got, or are getting mildew…”

It came from a place of well-intentions, but, really? He should’ve seen it before the incident with the water heater then. Robbie had even gotten the damn dehumidifier, a small cheap non-electric thing currently in the washing room where it was really needed as they spoke. “Oh, no doubt about it, but every time I try to air it out I get either frogs, mice or hedgehogs.” Unlike the bathroom, mosquito nets didn’t help. They _chewed_ through them. “Or all of them, because hedgehogs eat frogs _and_ mice, and it’s not pretty let me tell you. And trying to capture and release a pissed off hedgehog? Well, trust me, it’s not a good time for anyone involved.” He knew that it had gone too far when he’d started to recognise and name them, he retold him. _Sugar Pie_ had done a rather impressive attempt to chew through his gloves. Heinous little beast who hadn’t gotten the memo that they were supposed to roll into growling hissing pincushions.

He received a chuckled, “you sound like my brother about cats stuck in trees,” at his rant with a wide smile on their way up.

“Eh?” That was the most used trope, wasn’t it? Mittens gotten stuck in a tree again, better call the fire department and waste their time.

“He claims that the only rescue that didn’t end in an attempt at gauging his eyes out was this tiny docile kitten." He came up by his side, continuing with a humorous lilt in his voice, “apparently, he'd worn the full gear, fully expecting and bracing himself for an angry ball of teeth and claws, and instead _that_  had happened, and it was because it was deaf! Though, most of the time, they need to mount rescue efforts for the _owners_ who’ve climbed up after the cat.”

Robbie had to stop mid-step and support himself with one hand on his knee and clinging to the railing with the other as he laughed. That wasn’t what he had expected, at all, and he managed to force so out between the giggling and their climb. Humankind never failed to deliver hilarity it would seem.

“I think he’s sworn off cats, he got a dog recently.”

It figures. He had told him of the weird restrictions around having canines. “Let me guess, a Golden Retriever?”

“How did you…?”

“Call it a hunch. Your brother is replacing you.”

“I think it’s more that my niece and nephew are. Seeing as they only see me twice a year. Álfur and I talk on the regular, to keep eachother up to date and his kids are apparently almost as bad as we were at that age.”

Robbie nearly stumbled and there was a warm hand on his elbow to keep him from falling.

Right, he was an uncle!

Little rowdy ones.

He wondered if Alex was in the frame of mind to start a family as well and if that was what he was looking for in a guy. Or, if the kids at work were enough for him?

Personally, and with hopeless fantasies aside, he wasn’t all too sure. Just having a serious partner was an intimidating thought. Alex was so far the only other person he’d told about his previous life and as well the first person he’d allowed in… In many ways. He cleared his throat and said, “family gatherings must be a hoot. You’re going back during your scheduled holiday?”

“Not this summer. I’ll save it for my mother’s birthday later on.”

“So _that_ _’s_ why you only took out two weeks. And here I thought you were a workaholic.”

With a positive to the first and weak objection to the second, they turned the bend and onto the stairs to the second floor.

Robbie was starting to feel like a twitchy tourist guide.

At the upper stair landing it was a short hallway and three doors. He opened the narrowest door further in into what looked more like a cupboard with a disconnected sink and toilet. No ensuites here, no sir. “That’s what used to be an upstairs toilet, but alas, no more…”

“Previous owners?” he guessed correctly.

“Yes.” He led him past that and to the door at the very end of the hallway and held the door open for him to pass through. He didn’t need to feel guilty about this room being a mess. It was solely for storage. And even if he’d wanted to, the decision made before him for the built-in inner walls for concealing the sloping walls on each side made it near impossible to furnish and use as a bedroom. There wasn’t even a functioning _anything_ in it.

 

Almost done.

“Your bedroom?” Alex asked as they went towards the stairs again, turning his head to the last unexplored room behind a closed door.

“If you insist,” he complained in jest and opened it as well. His too big bed, preowned, except the top mattress, because no, just, _no_ , stood there squeezed in between a mighty inconvenient built-in wardrobe into the wall and sloping ceiling on the other, and facing windows by the foot end that let in the afternoon and evening sun.

He read the other’s expression at seeing the bed and the glance back at the curved stairwell then back to the bed. “With difficulty,” he said to answer the unspoken question of how he’d gotten it upstairs. There was a long sewn together gash along the obscured side as a result of trying to prise it up and around the bend of the middle landing.

 

Good. He had survived that.

As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. He hadn’t had the time to eat properly the whole day. Unlike Alex, he could actually do that without severe consequences. Still not recommended, nor pleasant, though. “Dinner and then outside before the bloodsuckers descends?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he chirped and was taking the stairs down and into the kitchen in breakneck speed.

 

Reason number five out of eighty-three he’d listed why they would never work out, Robbie was reminded as he filled a large pot with water; _their completely different dietary needs._

He had gone grocery shopping after work the day before and now his own fridge was a hazard to him. “There’s, there are apples in here,” Alex said, sounding disbelieving at its contents. “But, you can’t…?” his voice drifted off.

Along with a whole deal of other fruits and vegetables Robbie could barely touch without gloves. “Well, yes? You eat that, so I bought it,” he said, aiming for indifference, pouring too much salt into the water, swore, and had to start over.

Alex turned to look over his shoulder at him. “You didn’t _have_ to.” With something crossing his features. “… _Thanks_.”

“Whatever.” He had the vegetables and fruits in separate bags on the lowest shelf where they could be bright and offensive on their own.

 

Robbie entertained the thought to go out into one of the sheds and scream his head off for a while. It was either that or die of awkwardness.

 

Alex, ever observant when not asked for it, had apparently noted Robbie’s state. “Robbie, are you okay? You seem a little… Out of it?” he asked, having just finished slicing what he’d eat and washing his hands and tools to minimize risks of contaminating the other kitchenwares and Robbie’s own food.

Probably because he was trying to astral project himself a thousand miles away. “I’ve never had anyone staying over before,” he said in a half-truth and collapsed into the closest kitchen chair.

He approached him. “I’m honoured then,” and smiled back down at him, giving his shoulder what was supposed to be a reassuring squeeze, that was instead killing Robbie and not because of his strength.

“Your hands are wet.” Another half-truth.

He laughed with an apology passing his lips and drew away to continue cooking. With his back turned to him he said, “it’s only _me_ , Robbie. You don’t have to worry. Just, relax.”

‘ _It_ _’s because it is you!_ ’ he thought. Instead, he replied, “ _you_ _’re_ telling _me,_ ” feigning outrage and shock, “ _to_ _relax?!_ ”

“Well,” he responded, the humour back in his voice, “you’re the one who knows where the plates are. You _could_ set the table?”

“Knew it!”

 

He did try to lighten up and uncoil the dense mass of stress in his frame. It was working so and so. Shoving his face with food was a brief but effective distraction. Though it was double-edged.

There was always the awkward silence, for example. Feeling the same as back when they’d still been strangers.

“I’m not used to older wooden houses, actually,” Alex confessed after a while, finishing his almost empty plate of pasta salad, Robbie’s own plate having contained more pasta and cheese sauce than anything else, and some dark greens by the side because the guy _insisted_. “Most houses in Iceland are made out of concrete.”

Robbie's brow went up high. “Really?”

“Yes.” His face took on a softer expression as he smiled at him and spoke again, “your home, _I like it_ , it’s very _you_.”

He’d tried to put his personal touch to it. As he was on the messy side, you were more likely to find four different types of adjustable wrenches before the cutlery, he would also be the first to admit that he liked colours and he’d painted the walls in his favourite ones. Which maybe wasn’t the most conventional ones and an expert home decorator would probably cry in dismay at the sight. But, so be it. He’d seen home décor magazines and he wasn’t impressed with the white voids they presented.

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it.

 

Originally, he’d planned to postpone the _further extensive_ guided tour until tomorrow and show what he got up to when he wasn’t busy sleeping his free time away. Although… The sun was still high and he could take a handful of pills to ward off the hay fever from the fields.

Watching his friend scraping up the last of his dinner and gulping down his water fast, Robbie came to a decision.

‘ _Hell, why not?_ ’ he thought and did the same with his own morsels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deaf kitten based on true story told by local fire department when I was a teen. You could see him cringe and inwardly groan when asked about cats, -before launching into a long angry rant.
> 
> Hedgehogs are omnivores and will eat _anything_ , including their hoglets... I did not need to know that.
> 
> Without saying too much, but I think we're all done with this song and dance and how stupid these two are, I'm looking forward to the next chapter.


	18. Sun kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A project pickup truck, mosquitoes, the useless land Robbie is burdened with and someone makes an unsolicited advance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who made art for the "the scene" long before they wrote the damn chapter? [I did!](http://xbydefault.tumblr.com/post/176140344421/i-still-dont-have-the-patience-for-drawing)

“I can do the dishes,” Alex offered afterwards when they were both done.

He waved his hand dismissively at that, saying in a high-key tone, “the dishes can wait, there’s something I want to show you,” smiling from ear to ear.

Looking somewhat bewildered, the other man followed him outside.

“You probably want to travel by foot to look at the surroundings, however, I have another idea.”

“Okay?” he eyed him warily. Probably due to Robbie’s blatant turn in behaviour.

“Behold!” He’d taken them to one of the bigger sheds. “ _This_ is why I brought you out!” he announced as he opened up the doors of the shed proving to serve as a garage to display an ancient deregistered car. It was a small pickup with its hood in a sun-bleached off blue colour, almost blue berry in places. When the water heater had met its untimely demise he’d been seriously considering selling the car for scraps, instead of going through with his plan to finish rebuilding it and then sell it. Though, actually finishing it, was like the floor, and isolation, and heating, and whatnot in the house; feasible in theory, but doing it in reality a different thing.

Alex gaped at the sight. “I didn’t think you had a car!”

“Not a _functional_ one. It’s unfit as an automobile so I’m turning it into a doodlebug tractor.”

“A tractor? Like a moped?” He walked up closer to inspect the vehicle. “Where did you get it in the first place?”

“It was a steal.” He realised the bad choice of words and elaborated, “the previous owner was desperate enough to pay the bailiff that they took my offer of two hundred for this hunk of junk.” He’d spotted the thing wasting away in the tall vegetation by one of the sheds and seen its potential. Back then he had still been high on the feeling of having cash in his pocket and had made a bid for it without a second thought. “I’m going to sell it, because of money obviously, and there’s just so much you can do before it gets boring. I have yet to strangle the engine down to five point four horse powers, replace the ignition switch since the key is still broken off inside it, weld the tailgate... When it’s done, I might squeeze out fifteen hundred for it, if I’m lucky, and… Well...” He realised he was rambling and was getting way off track why he’d brought them out here in the first place. He looked up from his side. “Have you ever hotwired a vehicle?”

“Uhm, no?” Alex replied form the opposite side.

“ _Would you like to?_ ” he said and gave him a wide grin, probably sounding a tad bit too excited... And unhinged.

The look of surprise morphing into a mirrored excited one and positive quick jerks of his head was answer enough, and he motioned for him to get over to his side.

 

He was a fairly quick study, but that was partly because Robbie had already exposed the wires and guided him through the steps after he’d taken it out on the driveway with a quick demonstration. You couldn’t do this as easily with newer cars.

“It purrs like a kitten with bronchitis,” he declared, leaning in over Alex by the driver’s seat from his own seat, who revved it and grunted as he cranked the wheel hard to either side as instructed, and it was ready to go.

“You seem to know a lot about cars, rebuilding and repurposing this truck.”

“Dad’s a mechanic, I told you. His idea of instilling some discipline in me and keep me idle when I dropped out of school was to keep me busy in the garage and the shop. Until that stopped working.” He wasn’t his dad, he enjoyed fiddling from time to time, but he was no pure bred grease monkey and he couldn’t imagine doing mechanics for a living. Skills or not. Though, they came in handy in everyday life. “Taught me carpentry too, most of what’s in the house is me trying to fix what the previous owners did, or what the house itself throws at me,” he droned as he checked the lamps on the dashboard.

Alex turned his head to look at him straight on, surprising him with how close they were. “Is there anything you can’t do?” sounding awed, what for Robbie couldn’t quite comprehend.

He leaned away and pulled the safety belt from its hold. “I can’t cook.” Which his friend had experienced first-hand already. “Alright let’s get this show on the road.” He was going to regret this, he just knew it. “You’re driving.”

He nearly stopped the engine. “ _Me?_ ”

“Why do you think you’re in the driver’s seat? It can’t go faster than forty kilometres until I’ve strangled the engine to where I want it. Not even you could kill us at that speed.”

The wide grin that split Alex’s face gave him mixed feelings in his gut. Warm and fluttery as it always tended to make him feel, however for this instance, also that he was tempting fate with a maniac driver in a tractor.

 

This was the man with the dicey driving after all.

 

“So, peatlands, more peatlands. Fens, pines and rocks. Told you so, not much to do or use it for.”

“Some berries and waterfowl like these conditions.” Case in point, a crane in the distance, doing whatever cranes did when not having dance offs, and he had to physically snap the driver out of looking too long after it and focus on the narrow backcountry road they were on.

Robbie argued, “so does mosquitoes,”

Alex sighed. “That’s what I miss about home. We got gnats and midges, but very few mosquitos.”

“Don’t you have a lake called ‘ _The Mosquito Lake_ ’?” looking over at him with amusement as he asked.

He shuddered and pulled a face. “Except there.” His moustache twitching downwards as if for emphasis.

He chuckled. Not a fan of the awful pests either then. He saw swarms of them out on the lands and joined in on the full bodied shudder in disgust.

“Is this yours as well?” They were now driving past a field of grass and young birch. Robbie was glad he’d taken the antihistamines and was inside the truck.

“Yup.” He glared at it as if personally offended, which he guessed he was. “The only piece that’s actually usable.” A whole hectare that he had no idea what to do with. “And that shed far over there too,” he added, gesturing to a structure far off on the other side of the field. “Full of timber from parts of the old fencing.”

Alex pursed his lips, slowing the vehicle to a crawl to have a better look at it all. “Have you… Have you thought of leasing it out?”

“What self-respecting farmer would want this overgrown piece of dirt?”

“Summer grazing? It’s probably too late now. But we could check with the riding schools, or local dairy farmers, for next year.”

_We?_

He sucked on his lower lip in thought of the suggestion. “I… Maybe…”

Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of that.

“Hey,” he spoke up again, asking him, “if you’re allergic… I noticed your hammock. How are you faring out here if you get hay fever?

“I’m alright with conifers. And as long as I don’t decide to roll around in the high grass, or venture out into the road ditches, I won’t consume an entire kitchen roll by blowing my nose.” Pills didn’t help much with the nasal congestion though.

“Ah, okay.”

They came to an open area and the indication that they were on municipal lands again with a wider different country road on the other side. “We can turn around further up,” he announced and gestured ahead of them.

Driving into the vast open area, Alex questioned, “what’s this?”

“A whole lot of gravel. I think that semi-trailer trucks stop here to change cargo.” There were tire tracks from the large hauling vehicles imprinted into the ground bolstering that claim.

He spotted Alex sticking out his tongue biting the tip in thought, another quirk he’d taken notice of. His next words confirmed his suspicion of what was on his mind. “Could I test how it handles here in the open?”

“I’ll wait outside with the flying creatures while you do donuts or whatever you have in mind.”

“No need, I just want to test the performance.”

The notion that he was tempting fate with a maniac driver in a not yet fully throttled tractor crossed his mind again. But, it was an open gravel-yard and the truck couldn’t go that fast. He caved in with a nod.

 

Big. Mistake.

 

It was Robbie’s turn to gape in a mix of astonishment and awe as he clutched the grab handle in a double handed white knuckled grip. “It can’t,” he wheezed, Alex looking somewhat embarrassed by his side, “and I really mean it, it _can_ _’t_ go faster than forty kilometres. _How the hell did you just do that?!_ ”

“It was maybe a bit of a sharp turn there,” he ducked his head and thumbed the steering wheel after the car had thankfully died when he’d stepped off the pedal.

“The wheels lifted from the ground. _My side was airborne!_ ”

“For a second.”

“ _Airborne!_ ” He struggled to unbuckle his seatbelt. “That’s it, I’m walking home! I rather get hay fever and anaemia out there than die in a fiery accident.” The devil knew how to get it started again, he could race it back to his heart’s content.

“ _Wait!_ ” A hand shot out to grab Robbie’s wrist to prevent him from undoing the constraints. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it’d be that top-heavy. I’ll drive us back. _Carefully_.”

Robbie halted his grappling with the buckle and followed the appendage with his gaze to lock with piercing blue. Alex’s cheeks were still flushed from the adrenaline infused antics. Inhaling through his mouth and he looked like he was tittering on the edge, about to say something else, but closed his mouth again.

 _Goddamnit._ All he seemed to do was to cave in, over and over again. “Okay.”

“Okay?” sounding surprised. The hand shifted to rest over his, though not letting go fully. Robbie could get out of it anytime.

“I said so, yes.”

As if it wasn’t bad enough already, he let out a breath and released him, shoulders dropping and gave him a brilliant smile outshining the evening sun.

He cleared his throat and settled back in his seat to cross his arms like a petulant child. “Now I know that I need to lower the centre of gravity on it, in case I’d sell it to another crazy driver.”

Alex made a faint noise and got the car rolling again.

 

He did drive them back without any further incidents, even pointedly ignoring the long-legged fowl out on the fen.

Alex said with a smile after a while, “you got to admit it was a little fun.”

“I will not dignify that with an answer,” he huffed in response. Maybe it had been. A little.

He caught his own reflection in the mirror inside the sun visor. His hair had come loose from the hair products, making him look like he’d been styled by a five year old, not helped by the harrowing car outing. He screwed up his face in a grimace at it and slid back the lid for the mirror. He really needed that shower when they got back.

Alex snickered as they pulled up in front of the house again.

He parked the car himself inside the shed with Alex helping to close the doors behind him.

“Why don’t you use the actual garage?” he asked after securing the first one and now waiting for Robbie to emerge outside.

“I do,” he hummed and exited the truck. “I put it there during the winter, but I prefer it closer to the house this time of year.”

Alex tilted his head in understanding, still inside the opening, to look at the slowly developing project one last time as Robbie stepped in there to share the space in order to disengage the door stop by the ceiling.

 

Robbie must be cursed _and_ chronically clumsy by nature.

It was the only explanation.

 

Not looking where he put his feet by the edge, his foot slipped on the worn and rounded threshold into the gap where the ramp ended. When he yelped in surprise as he lost his footing completely, Alex caught him with both his hands around his waist and hauled him back to twirl him, like he weighted nothing, so they faced eachother.

“Careful there,” he laughed, sounding breathless, despite it being Robbie that had no air left in his lungs.

“Thanks,” he squeezed out, having mirrored his hold on the other so not to fall over again. Though it felt as if his knees would buckle before he pitched to the side a second time.

Alarm bells and other warnings went off in his head. They had hugged and shared personal spaces before. This time though… There was a static in the air.

Hands resting on his hips. The side of Alex’s face was illuminated in honeycomb yellow catching in the highlights of his wild hair and his eyes glinting in azure.

‘ _Close, too close!_ ’ it screamed.

The mirthful laugh died in the other’s throat. It must be all too plain on Robbie’s face. It had to be.

 

What happened went by so quickly he wasn’t sure it had actually happened, if it wasn’t for the flustered state and fearful look in the other’s eyes.

It had been clumsy, hard. And over far, far too quickly for Robbie to comprehend what was happening and able to respond.

Alex stared up at him with his eyes impossibly wide and a shocked expression over his features. As if _he_ wasn’t the one that had abruptly pulled Robbie down and _kissed him!_

His mouth mutely opening and closing before he stuttered, “I’m, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I, I…” He visibly recoiled, taking another step away from him for what the space of the doorway allowed. “I can leave.”

His brain kick started back into action as the words registered with him.

_Leave?!_

Oh, no. Definitely not happening. Not in a million years!

“Don’t,” he exhaled, begging, “ _please_.”

Not trying to get away anymore, however, not coming back to him. “Robbie?”

He had absolutely nothing to lose.

Alex had kissed him. He wanted it to happen again.

 _Needed_ _it to happen again_.

He didn’t trust his voice. Swallowing hard but his heart would not go back down his throat, he took a step towards him. He chanced to put his hand on his shoulder, letting it travel up his neck, feeling the man lean into his touch, and settle to cradle the side of his head, gently coaxing him back to him. Alex came willingly back, and Robbie tilted his own head down, a hairsbreadth away, before he met his mouth with the other’s again in a gentle kiss that turned languid and open-mouthed by its own will almost.

An arm came around his back to hold him and he felt the wanton noise made by the man reverberating through his own frame.

Pulling back, he looked down at him.

The look of alarm had turned into one of wonder, blinking up at him with a hoarse, “ _you_?”

“Yeah,” he said just as raspy. Because yes. Yes, he _did_.

Alex went up for another less gentle one, one full of need and intent, and he soon found himself stumbling back to hit his side of the doorframe with an ‘ _oumph_ _’_.

“Oh god, I’m sorr-”

Robbie cut him off with another kiss, and another, and another.

 

The doorframe and hinges digging into his back as Alex pressed up against his front was the only thing grounding him, that he wasn’t dreaming and that this was reality. He felt like a levee had broken and was unsure if he should laugh until he cried in relief, or jump directly to the crying. So instead, he focused on the physical sensations; of the callused hands that had found their way into his hair where they were creating a bigger mess than before. The spit-slick thin lips against his as he licked into him and the scratch of facial hair. Robbie tried to give as good as he got, wanted Alex to feel as he did that moment, but not knowing how to more than holding him tighter and clasping the muscles of his back, burying his hand in his hair a little harder and curl his tongue that made the other make a guttural groan.

No finesse whatsoever and they were probably looking like two horny teenagers making out. One out of that visual description being true.

A hand had come down to skim the side of his hip and stop there to hold him in place.

He wasn’t that gentlemanly himself and gripped his ass with both his hands to pull him up and against him despite height differences and, _ohh_. ‘ _Mr, is that a medical device in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?_ ’

Probably both, judging by the happy moan he made.

As tempting it was to continue where they stood, they were not alone anymore and the insistent and mood killing whine from mosquitos buzzed around their heads, and reluctantly he pulled back to smack the side of his neck. Looking down at his hand and spotting blood among the carnage in his palm. Damn, it had already fed on one of them. “We,” his voice broke and he cleared his throat to try again, “we should go inside.”

Alex concurred on that suggestion wholeheartedly and snaked his arm around to rest in the small of his back as they walked wordlessly back. It felt good and reassuring, and he put his own arm over his shoulders to keep him close until they had to separate at the front door.

Not until they were both inside and the door closed behind did they speak.

Well, _tried_ to speak. Robbie’s language centre had retired for the evening it would seem. “So, uh,” he started, “that…”

‘ _That had just happened._ ’

Years of linguistic science and English and _nothing_ coherent made it past his lips.

“I like you,” he said eventually, sounding like a pathetic child declaring a crush. Which was pretty spot on how he felt. He tried to rake his hand through his hair and got stuck on knots. He must be in quite the state.

Alex, who himself looked tussled and downright beautiful with his flushed cheeks and eyes crinkling from smiling back up at him, stroked his sides and hugged him close, either to comfort Robbie, or himself, he wasn’t sure, but it did the trick. “I like you too,” he replied softly.

Robbie wrapped around him and sighed, “a lot.”

“Me too,” he said into his shoulder.

After a while of enjoying the tranquil silence and the realisation that, yes, this was happening, he hadn’t slipped out there and fatally hit his head on a rock. “I feel like a jerk now, but, I need to wash out my hair.”

Alex drew back to smile up at him and shook his head with a small laugh lilting his words more than the thicker than usual accent did. “You should probably see yourself,” he sniggered.

He opened the door to the bathroom and saw his current state.

Ravaged. -And like someone had had a go at his hair with an electric egg beater. “I _really_ need to shower,” he choked out.

Arms wrapped around his middle from behind. “I’ll be waiting.” Before he let go of Robbie completely.

Robbie turned around to cup his face between his hands and kissed him softer and slower than they’d done outside, wanting to convey that, no, he wasn’t going to crawl out of the high narrow bathroom window. “I’m counting on it.” And hoping that Alex, in turn, hadn’t run away while he was in there.

 

He could’ve invited him to join him, he realised and smacked his forehead as he undressed inside the bathroom.

 

The faster he scrubbed the gunk out of his hair he could get back out there. He closed his eyes under the spray of water, letting the warmth wash over him.

He lowered his head to rest his forehead against the cool tiles to watch the water go down the drain by his feet. Grinning like the lovestruck idiot he was, a small giggle rose through his sternum and bubbled out. If not for the risk of slipping, and hitting his head fatally for real, he’d dance around and jump in glee.

Wow. Just, _wow_.

 

He was about done when he looked down the length of his body again, biting his lip to silt the water through his teeth, lost in thought. He didn’t have the foggiest where this was going long-term. All he knew was that he wanted the man from the core of his being and the object of his affection felt to some degree the same, and so he debated with himself about the short-term possibilities he knew could take place instead.

It was better to be prepared, even if things didn’t go that far. Than not, if they did end up naked in bed.

His body responded to the thought, like it always did. More so, now that it was a feasible possibility and not a dirty fantasy.

A few more minutes would do no difference to the other.

The water washing over him turned ice cold and he shrieked.

“Don’t do that!” he cried out at the top of his lungs. He hadn’t been in there long enough for the new water heater to run out of hot water.

“I’m sorry!” came the muffled reply back, sounding far too happy and it broke into a laugh, “I was trying to do the dishes while you were in there!”

Robbie swore under his breath about flippity flopping jokesters as he got out to rummage after what he needed and back into the tub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And _I_ feel like a jerk, because I got once again people staying over so next update will be next weekend.


	19. Won't say I'm in love if you're not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent is sexy.  
> Alex thinks he's sneaky when he's switching into a different language. He isn't, and now things gotten weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bangs pots and pans in the town square: Sex! There'll be sex, with feelings and other unnecessary things! 
> 
>    
> Once again (I am too goddamn spoiled at this rate), a beautiful piece of art by Walstra that I've included at the end of this chapter bc damn they cute!

Robbie patted his hair dry in order to try and keeping it from frizzing up too badly, conditioner or no conditioner, the coiled curls had a will of their own. Shave, brushing his teeth, buying himself more time because he was a nervous wreck... Leave-in conditioner.

He couldn’t hide in there forever.

It was with apprehension and timidity that he opened the door again to step out into the hallway, donned in nothing but his boxers and a silky dressing gown secured around himself. The thought of wrangling on the too hot jumper and pants hadn’t sat well with him. Along with the realisation that he’d practically abandoned the other man for far longer than he’d planned. Long enough for Robbie’s confidence to dwindle and probably for Alex to come back to his senses.

In the space between the bathroom to the stairs was an open view into the kitchen and he spotted him standing by the counter, looking out of the window while he was wringing the kitchen towel in his hands in what was obvious agitation.

“H, hey,” he tried. “Uhm…” ‘ _Sorry I made you wait forever that you did all the dishes and apparently dried them and now you_ _’re probably wondering if you made a mistake with me,_ ’ his useless brain blabbered. “You didn’t need to dry the dishes…” ‘ _Argh! Fuck!_ ’

Alex turned to him, just so missing the sight of him smacking the side of his face with his hand, a small smile on his lips. “It-” Whatever he was about to say was cut short and instead he exclaimed, “your hair!” and was on him in three red seconds, effectively startling Robbie at the sheer speed he’d crossed the space. He looked like a child on Christmas as he deduced the obvious, “it’s curly.”

“So is yours!” he defended in a kneejerk reaction.

“Not like this,” he lobbed right back and grinned. “Can I touch it?”

“What? Yes, yes of course,” he replied, somewhat taken back at the request. Alex had had his hands tangled up in it earlier, he was one of the main reasons he had to wash his hair in the first place!

He reached up to card his fingers through the damp locks and Robbie melted into it with a sigh, surprising himself a little with the instant reaction and a realisation of how starved of such an intimate yet innocent touch from another human being he was. “You’re always having hair products in it, I’ve never seen you with it unstyled,” he said, one hand in his hair and the other the only thing keeping Robbie from sagging against him.

Robbie tried to rack his brain for when he might have, and came to the same conclusion. Not even when he’d spent the night, or taken him up on the offer of using the shower, had his hair been void of products outside of the bathroom. He’d seen him without makeup before, _that_ he did know.

The man abandoned his ministrations to hug him like he’d done before he’d run into the bathroom.

“You smell good,” he sighed and held him closer, burrowing his head under Robbie’s chin, right into the cleavage of the robe.

“Have you been holding back all this time?” he asked partly in jest. He _was_ rather physical, way more than any time before.

Alex didn’t look up from where he was nosing the tufts of hair sticking up and said, “yes.”

Oh. Well, okay then.

“You were in there a long time.”

“Uh, yes, sorry about that, I…” He gave up being coherent and leaned down to kiss him to distract him. Alex made a happy little noise that went like an arrow through Robbie and they fell right back into where they had left off outside in the shed.

And, he was just as amazing as he tangled in open mouthed kisses, making his knees weak when his tongue entered his mouth and pressed his broader frame up against his.

This time however, Alex was the one to throw chivalry out the metaphorical window and feel his backside up and onehandedly work the knot of the rope sash.

Robbie must’ve done _something_ for him to think he wasn’t doing exactly what he wanted. “Oh, sorry.” He laughed, his voice taking on a nervous tinge, “that’s maybe a bit too fast. Isn’t it?”

“No, don’t stop,” he said instantly and now _he_ felt like the one pushing for more too fast. He worried his lip, it wasn’t untrue that he had _hoped_ that things would take a turn in that direction. “I, uhm, that is, if you want to.”

He had a sober expression, only betrayed by how his thumbs were drawing small circles on his hips in his hold on him. “You don’t have to. This is more than fine, Robbie.”

‘ _Blunt. Be blunt,_ ’ he reminded himself. “I _want_ to have sex with you.” That was about as blunt he could possibly be, wasn’t it? “But, I’m alright with watching a movie, or making something to drink and just talk.”

Talk… They probably should do that…

“Oh.” His gaze flicked to the still open bathroom door and it clicked why Robbie had been in there for so long. The facial expressions during that moment made a minor journey and settled for a big warm smile and drawing him near again. “Oh, I, _yes_. I want that too. With you.”

Robbie was to point out that there weren’t many others there before him than yours truly, but the other man derailed that train of thought with one final tug on the rope.

The robe opened, and Alex had a full view of Robbie’s pale skin and less than impressive physique. He didn’t seem to mind and made a small ‘oh’ in appreciation and leaned in to suckle his throat as he palmed his sides with calloused hands.

Robbie was sure he had a bruise when Alex pulled back. “Cute,” he concluded with an indulgent smile and skimmed the waistband of his boxers, teasing the skin there.

They were old fashioned white boxers. Cartoony with printed hearts and not exactly made for seduction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, really. They’re very cute.” He gave him a cheeky grin. “Like you.”

He was shy of two meters tall and currently nursing a semi. He didn’t know if cute was the word he would use to describe himself right now. And if Alex kept it up with his hands going closer and closer said semi with tugging of the waistband lower, then he’d show him just how _cute_ he could be.

“Should we go to your bedroom?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. Faking an over the top smarmy tone, “well, I don’t know, there’s always the recl-”

“No,” he deadpanned before he got to finish the sentence.

Robbie cackled and did lead him upstairs. Nerves washing off him and replaced with anticipation with each step.

 

Alex wanted him.

 

And this was happening.

 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and brought the man closer, winding one arm around him and the other travelling up his stomach under the shirt, pulling the material along with it until Alex took off the T-shirt on his own accord.

Robbie would be lying if he wasn’t a little perplexed by the up and close sight of the infusion set on his left side of his abdomen, mirrored by the patch for the glucose sensor on the opposite side. Residues of adhesive where he’d had the set earlier blemishing the skin.  

The apprehension was fleeting however, and Robbie started mouthing the warm flesh where he had a clear path, being rewarded with a breathy moan when he latched onto his pecs and a hand behind his neck. He slipped off the edge and sank onto his knees to start on the jeans, pressing his face into him as he blindly undid them and start pulling them down.

Blue boxer briefs. He wasn’t the least surprised. And he was growing hard. Robbie made an approving hum and mouthed at the fabric, getting an idea of what he had to play with here.

Alex on the other hand made a panicky noise as the tubing snagged when the pants were pulled downward and fished the pump out of the pocket. Awkward and not sure what to do with the device and trying to get something else out of his other pocket just out of reach while Robbie did all to make things harder for him in more than one way.

“I need… Please, give me a moment.”

Looking up from his position he gave him an innocent front. He wasn’t doing anything. Nope, no. All while tugging on the underwear as well.

He’d just gotten a glimpse of the hilt and tawny curls when Alex begged him to cease and desist. “Robbie please, _stop_ ,” with his voice having taken on an anxious tone. He withdrew from his teasing immediately, giving him enough room to get one foot free from the jeans and sink to his own knees before him.

He watched him press the sides of the round white plastic of the infusion set and twist it to disconnect. “Just,” he swallowed, “give me a moment.” He set the pump on top where he’d discarded his shirt and put on a disconnect cover over the infusion site. Temporarily free from the aid. “Sorry.” He looked back up at him, a sheepish expression on his face, as well awkward and unsure after the hold-up. Backlit and angelic in the last rays of daylight in the room.

“You’re beautiful,” Robbie managed to blurt out. It was better than start yelling at him that there was absolutely nothing to be sorry about. He drew him into his lap proper. “So beautiful.” Driving his point home by kissing his mouth, his nose, brow, back to his mouth and just lingering there sharing breath.

It was only awkward if you made it so. And romantic movies were big fat liars about everything else involving naked bodies bumping uglies.

And, it didn’t take long to get back on with the programme, especially when Robbie had latched onto the side of his recent lover’s neck, just under his jaw, making Alex hold onto the edge of the mattress and keen before he took a handful of his hair. He nipped at his lower lip. “What do you like?” he breathed into him, too close to focus.

Robbie drew a blank. There were just too many options presented to him. “Do me,” he exhaled in turn, “I want you to do me. I don’t care how. I just want you _now_.” At least he hadn’t outright begged. Brownie point for him, though, he would if need be.

Alex groaned and thoroughly plundered his mouth, rocking into him and rendered Robbie into a puddle of pure desire. “I want you on your back, that alright?” he asked and pulled him up with him to stand again.

Not his favourite position, but he wanted to see his face as well. “Yes.” He shuffled backwards on top of the bed. Alex kicked off his jeans completely, and followed him.

If someone had said that Robbie would have a beautiful man crawl up between his legs with the full intent of fucking him into the next week. He’d say that he’d gotten extremely lucky and that the lightning must’ve been quite bad. Not likely, but not completely impossible. However, if someone had said that the man would’ve been Alex, and taking place in Robbie’s own bed. Then he’d laugh in their face and then lock himself away in a room to scream. 

Up onto the bed he kissed his way up Robbie’s torso, palming his sides and chest, leaving love bites in his wake, making Robbie a squirming mess until he came to lie on top of him. A fleeting moment of hesitation with the disconnect cover and the glucose sensor, before securing him in place and kissed him hard and long, licking into him. The weight of him trapping him in place was perfect. Well, almost perfect. He couldn’t touch him as much as he wished to, no more than grabbing and kneading the muscles of his back and wrapping his legs around him.

As he had come up after him, he had him effectively pinned by the material of the robe where his knees sank down into the bolster, trapping Robbie where the silky material had stuck over his shoulders and his arms. He tried to wiggle free, but only managed to get his arms hopelessly stuck to his sides by the elbows instead. Alex seemed to find it amusing and snickered at his futile attempts at freedom and how their predicaments from earlier had turned in his favour this time.

“Okay, okay, you made your point.”

The menace on top of him merely laughed and dove down to tenfold his assault, shifting back between his legs so he could pull Robbie’s knee up, and letting a hand travel up the inside of his thigh, in under the material of his boxers, and between his legs.

Robbie swore into the other’s mouth and bucked into his hand when he wrapped around him.

He was about to accept his fate that he’d come like this, when Alex sat unceremoniously up over him, looking like he’d realised he’d left the stove on. “Do you have condoms?” Correction. Left the stove on and now there was smoke coming from the kitchen.

Crap, he’d nearly forgotten protection as well! “Yes, wait.” He was released, and he scrambled out of the bed with about as much grace as a newly anesthetized ungulate while he let the offensive robe finally fall off his frame. “Keep that thought,” he said as he dug through the built-in wardrobe where he’d thrown in all his _exciting_ possessions when he’d cleaned the place earlier.

With a cry of triumph he brandished a package of condoms and a half empty bottle of silicon based lube. Expensive, but worth it.

He was to add that he’d probably sooner or later come up with the notion that they needed lube anyway, however, the words died in his throat and he made a needy noise in lieu of something coherent. As well as nearly dropping his pickings. Alex had taken off his boxer briefs and was now naked on his bed, clad in nothing but a pearly white smile. With the same lack of grace that he’d left the bed, he tossed the items on the duvet and came back to fall on top of him. Feeling him up in ways he hadn’t been able to earlier. First on his list being to grasp his ass in his hands and grind down into him with a growl. Alex pulled off Robbie’s boxers with a frustrated groan against his mouth, which then turned into one of liking at his success, bucking up against him as he held him in a similar manner.

The other thing on his list had been to put his mouth where he had been interrupted by the pump earlier, however, his lover seemed to have another idea.

Alex made it seem so effortless, and Robbie marvelled over how strong he actually was when he hoisted him up with one hand grasping the back of his neck and the other bruising his ass cheek, to flip their positions back to where they’d started.

Right, he wanted to do him old fashion.

Bouncing on the mattress with a giggle, he caught the sound of the lube bottle snapping open.

He hated this part. Or, so heretofore experiences had told him. “I’m…” Better say it now, than later. “I’m not a big fan of fingering.” When he’d gone to meet up with someone, there’d rarely been time for care and tenderness if there was penetration to come, more like a hit of poppers and ready to go. Mostly for his partner of the evening.

He took it well. “Okay. I’ll take it slow,” he said, starting off with massaging around his opening.

 

Minutes later and with his eyes rolled back, Robbie was about to make it official; that any man he’d ever let near his ass before had had no idea what the hell they were doing.

“Do you want a pillow?” Alex asked, kneeling wide between his legs that he’d laid to rest on top of his own muscled thighs, having rolled on a condom and slicked them both up. Robbie mulled it over then shook his head. “Okay,” he murmured under his breath and pulled him closer. His eyes fluttered close as he lined himself up and fucked slowly into him, going deeper with every slow thrust as Robbie tried to relax into it, until it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began. All while Alex’s hands massaged and palmed Robbie’s thighs on each side of him.

Robbie was mesmerised by the sight of the abdominal muscles working, trying to constrain himself from going faster. He followed the beautiful sight up to lock eyes with a slack jawed man staring straight back at him.

 _Wow_.

Alex folded him over to reach his mouth and kiss him and they both lost it completely.

 

His lower back and hips were protesting, and he couldn’t give a damn. It felt _good_. Better than any late night fantasy starring his friend now actual lover could ever make justice. Every gasp the man over him made was tinged with his voice, growing louder, more ragged, and he himself was left to moaning deep and swear whenever he thrust _just so_ into him, which was always he swore on.

 

“I’m close,” his accent was thick, slurring on the short comment.

“Me too,” he gasped out between rocking back against him. He needed to come, and he needed it now.

“Touch yourself,” he righted up to drive home into him over and over, his face and chest flushed, groaning, “please.”

And he did. He jacked himself and came embarrassedly quick, the world whitening out at the edges as he climaxed. Alex groaned at the sight and picked up if even possible more speed. Falling over him to hold him painfully close, surrounding him as he thrust into him with abandon, killing Robbie with every push in the best way. Leaving him no choice, but to dig his nails into his broad back and cross his ankles to hook his feet together, trying to hold on for dear life.

He was moaning loudly into his ear as he came with slow powerful thrusts. Three, four, then coming to a shuddering halt digging his feet into the sheets and pressing deep into him.

They were both breathing hard. Robbie’s mind having turned into white noise as he stared into the ceiling overhead of them. It was either that or repeating, ‘ _oh god, oh god, oh god,_ ’ over and over again. Hearsay was apparently true, it really was different with someone you had strong feelings for.

He tried to focus on just breathing instead, and not how awfully hot and clammy they both were.

Alex nuzzled into the side of his face, his breath scorching against his overheated skin.  

It was so soft, exhaled, that Robbie might have missed it had his mouth not been centimetres from his jaw as he whispered, “ _é_ _g elska_ _þig_.”

Robbie’s already tattered mind came to a screeching halt. Too much to take in after the intensity of, well, _everything!_

He knew what it meant. Had looked it up in a weak moment many weeks ago. Had gone over the phonetics and pronounce to make sense of it.

 

‘ _Yee elska thig._ ’

‘ _I love you_.’

 

Alex’s bear hug eased up and he rolled off of him to dispose of the condom, giving them both room to cool off.

 

As physiology would have it, they both seemed to be the type in the habit of conking out after sex, and he was most certainly not complaining about that.

It couldn’t have lasted for long however, it wasn’t completely dark outside yet as he woke up in the twilight to an insistent buzzing and beeping coming from the end of the bed, rousing them both from their post coital snooze. He was still lying on his back while Alex had slung his leg over his hips in a possessive manner and face nestled against his shoulder.

Alex let out an annoyed groan and hid his face out of view, pressing closer against him before he withdrew.

“Whazzat?” he slurred, still waking up and trying to figure out the finer motor skills after having his brains screwed out. 

“It thinks I’m in trouble.”

His blood sugar. “Are you?”

He went up on his elbows and gave him a long unreadable look. “…Maybe,” he eventually said.

 

Robbie got the uncanny feeling that he wasn’t talking about his values. Remembering the clandestine love confession and he felt flustered all over again.

 

Rolling up to a sitting position and to where he had earlier discarded the pump and its noisy half of the monitor, Alex was muttering under his breath in Icelandic and Robbie could hear him say, “ _æ_ _haltu kjafti_ ,”  amongst other things directed to the alarm, telling it to shut it. Rudely.

He seconded that sentiment.

“I need to eat something,” he concluded after looking at the screen and sighing, his dark figure haloed by the backdrop of last evening light in magenta filtering in through the windows. Robbie winced at the twinge from his thighs and hips as he sat up to take the moment to visually appreciate his lover’s form. Not that Alex gave him much time to, as he laid down and drew Robbie’s leg close to kiss the backside of his knee. Making Robbie’s arousal flare up again.

“Can… Can I bring my things up here?” he asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, of course.” Had he expected a no? Judging by how he visibly relaxed, he might’ve. He didn’t know what to do with that information. “How do you sleep with the pump?” He might have asked him that sometime earlier, but he couldn’t remember if he had or what the answer might’ve been.

“I put it in a pocket in my pyjama bottoms or a thigh holster.”

“Thigh holster? _Nice_.”

He laughed, sounding more like himself as he got up and stretched. “I tried the waist belt, but it’s not comfortable.”

Robbie hummed, somewhat understanding why.

His lover put on his underwear to Robbie’s audible complaint and took the pump in hand.

He needed to use the bathroom himself after what his insides had been put through and got up far less fluidly with a disgruntled groan.

 

Alex had gone into the guestroom to get his stuff and a snack, and somehow Robbie had made it back upstairs long before him.

He put on his pyjama bottoms, the ones that were silky and purple and that he’d most likely would manage to kick off in his sleep, but so be it, and went in under the duvet to anxiously await Alex’s return. He heard a yelp and some swearing coming from downstairs not long after that. Sitting up, he spotted his shoes still lying close by and figured what had happened. He made the same mistake on a weekly basis.

“That’s what happens when you walk around barefoot!” He added in afterthought, “are you okay!? The first-aid is in the bathroom cabinet!” It would be just fucking spectacular if the man did manage to skewer his foot on a rusty nail Robbie had missed to replace or hammer back into the floorboards.

“It didn’t break skin, it’s alright,” his tenor voice closed in with the creaking of the stairs. He came back in, still dressed in nothing but his boxer briefs, with the backpack slung over one shoulder.

And hooked up again.

Robbie followed the tubing down to where he had the device in a thigh holster. He couldn’t resist letting out a wolf whistle. “I was right. _Nice_.”

Alex ducked his head, like he hadn’t not too long ago screwed Robbie into the mattress.

He snorted at the bashfulness in humour and sat up to beckon Alex to join him by pulling the thin duvet to the side.

His skin was still cool from walking around half naked and homed in on the heat that was Robbie with a happy keen. Kissing him and tasting spearmint from toothpaste.

 

This was new territory for Robbie. _Cuddling_. They were sitting close together, it had started out side by side, but then Alex had straddled his leg to face him and rest his head against his shoulder, nosing his clavicle while Robbie leaned with his back against the wall and stroking his blond hair.

“Was it good?” his hot breath and moustache tickled his naked skin.

He wanted to laugh at the question. “It was amazing. Trust me on that.”

Should he address what Alex had said? It could be nothing, just sex and the glow talking… But…

Why did he have to ruin everything nice happening to him? “Alex?”

He hummed in reply, steadying himself by putting a hand on the knee not occupied and leaned back to look at him. Already dark blue eyes in shadows and what little light there was catching on the locks that Robbie couldn’t stop carding through. God knew if he would get to do so again.

“About earlier, you said something I didn’t quite catch.” Giving him an opening to tell the truth.

A tension ran through his frame, Alex hid his face out of view again and put his forehead on his shoulder. “There are… Things I want to say to you. That are too soon to say out loud.”

Way to be cryptic.

And no shit. They had rushed into it by fucking almost straight after their very first kiss. Liking, even a lot, and _loving_ were miles apart. “I’ve looked up common phrases in Icelandic,” he stated, and he felt Alex freeze up against him at the realisation that he had understood his confession earlier.

‘ _Way to go there, Robbie. Fan-fucking-tastic,_ ’ he berated himself. He _knew_ he shouldn’t have said anything.

Where he’d been soft and amiable before, he’d now gone stiff and uncomfortable. Barely breathing.

Had their places been reversed, he’d thrown himself out of his arms and run away. And judging by how Alex shifted his weight, he was about to get out of his lap.

He took a colossal chance here and confessed into the dark room, “I’m in love with you.”

And of course Alex misunderstood, somehow thinking that he was just repeating what he’d caught him murmur into his ear, and winced, “I know it’s too soon. I can slow down.”

“No,” he threaded his fingers into the blond hair to coax the man to bring their faces together, “ _I_ _’m_ in love with _you_.” He was afraid that he’d scare Robbie off? It was _he_ who should be running for the hills!

He caught the same look of wonder, that had been on his face after they had kissed outside, again. Was it really that hard to believe? Either Robbie was worse at this than he’d thought, or Alex had some pretty unfounded hang-ups.

“I’m stupid in love with you,” he said, letting his lips drag over the skin, catching on stubble.

The grip on him tightened and the hand that had been on his thigh came up to cup his face.

Somehow, the man managed to pack a punch with one tender kiss. “I love you,” he said, voice thick with emotion, the first time in English, then once more in Icelandic, and kissed him again.

If he didn’t have an armful before, he sure did now.

“Thank you,” he said and rested their foreheads together, repeating the phrase, “ _thank you, thank you, thank you_.”

“Jesus, who the fuck hurt you?” he said before he could stop himself. Alex laughed breathlessly against him. “No, seriously. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.” He added, “and not just physically, though, it’s a damn nice packaging, but you get me, right?”

“No one, Robbie. I promise. I let others opinions get to me. I wanted to do this right… Ask you out, but, I’ve, I don’t know, _everything_ I did was _wrong_.”

 _Whose_ _opinion?!_ “Shows how little others know.” He shuffled back to lie down, and Alex moved enough to lie close to him and wrap a strong arm around his middle to have Robbie on his side where he wanted him.

Alex kissed his neck and settled against his backside. “I still want to take you out on a date. I was about to ask you last week, but it was a bad time.”

Because Robbie was occupied with fixing the basement. Goddamnit, he really did have bad luck. The both of them. “If you can find a place we both can eat at, then yes,” he yawned despite himself, “I’d like that very much.”

“Okay, Robbie.” And punctuated the sentence with pressing his lips against his skin and staying there.

“Night.”

Alex merely burrowed deeper into his backside and snuffled against his neck in response.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, for real. Who the hell hurt you, Alex?  
> Two chapters left. Goddamn. (Also more sex bc I can)
> 
> And hopefully an explanation why Alex won't stop flip flop like the shoe wear with the same name in the last one.
> 
> Thanks Walstra, for letting me include your art in my writing, they are adorable and I love how soft they look!


	20. Perfect Imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not supposed to be easy, just as long as they speak the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Renews banging pots and pans with more fervor: More feelings! More sex!  
> Y'all thought the last chapter was the high point? 
> 
> Along with another jab at my own jumbled English~~
> 
>  
> 
> Disgustingly amount of feels as the boys have the "talk" yet not... For lack of better words. Alex has a tendency to bottle things up and blow them out of proportions.

He could hear the smile of his spoken name close by his ear, accompanied by an insistent nudge on his shoulder.

“Hngh?” He blinked blearily up and was met with a too close excited face. Someone was a morning person. No surprise there, really. He screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in the pillow again.

Alex was unfazed. “Wake up.” He kissed his temple, now that Robbie had no complaint about what so ever and turned his face to him again and received a small peck on his lips as reward.

“I brought you a glass of water,” he said and pulled away to procure the aforementioned glass of clear cool liquid.

He debated with himself if it was worth the effort, but soon enough complied to rise on his elbows and drank from the glass, letting the water swirl in his mouth in an attempt to wash the stale taste out. It helped him wake up a little as well. Alex was sitting on his knees on top of the bolster, looking far too bright eyed and alert than the early hour mandated when Robbie glanced at the time and grimaced.

“Why are you up?” he said in accusation. It was far, _far_ , too early.

“Habit,” he explained. “This is usually when I rise.”

And they had gone to bed unusually early from Robbie’s own perspective. “Not sure how to break this to you, but I’m not a morning person.” He added, “it’s not even morning yet either. Get back in bed this instant.” No one could possibly be this excited. _It was before six!_ All-nighters not included, Robbie hadn’t been up this early since… Well, never.

“I know, but,” he hummed, practically buzzing, “there are deers right outside. Come look.”

“Deer in plural form,” he corrected, feeling grouchy. “And, that’s what this is all about?”

His lover, partner, bane of his existence, whatever they currently were, gave him the full intensity of the puppy eyes. He had to know the power it held over Robbie, he just had to.

“If I do, will you come back in bed with me?” he bargained.

The smile grew into a wide grin and he nodded his head excitedly.

 

There they were. Two of them. Grazing right under the bedroom window. “Look,” Alex near whispered by his side, as if the dumb animals could hear him through the glass.

“Seriously? _That_ _’s_ what got you excited? Don’t you have that back home?” They had a fuckton of birds, that’s all he knew. And ponies, but you weren’t supposed to call them ponies. Apparently, that was offensive.

“Reindeers on the east coast.” Robbie didn’t bother correcting his grammar -this time. “I’m from the west. And, this isn’t the same thing.”

“City boy,” he mocked, completely unfounded, Alex had guaranteed more outdoor experience than Robbie could ever fathom, but he knew enough about the local fauna that he wasn’t quite as excited about two deer on the doorstep in the small hours, “where there are deer, there are ticks.” Another reason why Robbie didn’t venture into the tall grass.

“I know that,” he retorted dryly. “They go on sheep and horses as well, and they’re notorious on birds. They’re _everywhere_ now.”

“Oh,” now Robbie felt sheepish himself, he hadn’t meant to sound condescending, “okay.”

His lover’s features grew softer seeing his long face and nuzzled his side. “You’re the city boy if anything,” teasing in an equally soft tone.

“Pfft,” he noised and put an arm over his freckled shoulders, “in my defence, you’re from a capital city.”

Alex snorted. “Maybe. But, I’ve spent the majority of my life everywhere else.”

He looked down at the deer. “I’ll take your word for it.” An unbidden thought presented itself and he asked, “do you ever want to move back?”

“It’s… No.” was all the answer he got.

It didn’t feel reassuring.

 

His plan had been to tug Alex with him into the bed after they had stared long enough that the title ‘ _Deerstalker_ ’ should be an actual thing and not a weird hat, but once again he took him by surprise by pushing him down on the bed and straddle him.

Not that Robbie was exactly complaining.

They were both in need of a shave. Robbie himself might not be that bad off since he’d shaved the evening prior, but two men with stubble did not cancel out the beard burn. Yet again, not exactly complaining.

He did complain when he got off him to curl into his side.

Even more so when the mood of the room made a one hundred and eighty degree turn.

“Why do you think your uncle made you his beneficiary?”

Hellooo left field, long time not seeing you coming. “Really?” He gave him an owlish look in disbelief. “You want to talk about my creepy asshole uncle _now?_ ”

Alex just jostled his shoulder and played with Robbie’s chest hair. “I’m curious.”

“Why me specifically I have no idea. However, there is one theory that would make sense. The man _got busy_. I don’t know what his deal was, he liked to throw people off their game. One of the many reasons dad couldn’t stand him and why mum, in turn, did.” Glanni had had a certain _charm_ and the reason that his mum never could cut him off, all the more confusing as to why _she_ hadn’t been the beneficiary but that could yet again have something to do with his dad. “When I was a kid, he turned up at a function in what had to be a screaming pink pimp outfit.” The ghastly getup was imprinted in his mind and he remembered the coat being fuzzy, like the recliner almost. “But, he did like women. I have _so many_ cousins and many more that none of us know of. Probably least of all Glanni himself did.” Mentioning the name out loud made him shudder, as if the mention in the bedchamber would somehow summon him from the other side, and wasn’t that a disturbing thought. He shuddered again, just for extra measure.

Alex let out a low whistle.

“I can only imagine the chaos, as illegitimate children started to come out of the woodwork across the country after his death. I only know through the life insurance lawyer, because some tried to make claim on my insurance outcome. Got to hand it to him, he was very tenacious, managing to get in touch with me.”

“Your uncle?”

“Uh? No, no, the lawyer. So, yeah, life insurance went to me and the rest had to fight over the scraps.”

“Do you think he went to our town?”

“Not impossible, why?” He squinted down at him in feigned dubiousness.

“Ella looks a bit like you. Many volunteers have asked me if you’re related.”

“Oh God, no, no, _no_. We’re not going there!” Robbie most certainly wasn’t going to ask her parents if they knew of a Glanni Glæpur, or someone that looked like him since he most likely had gone under a made up persona. Because god forbid if one of them, or worse even, Ella herself, turned out to be yet another one of his long lost illegitimate cousins! And he told the jokester curled up to him so, and then some. Said jokester merely laughed under his breath at his misery.

That is, until he asked something that killed the mood completely. Or more so, made Robbie kill it.

“So, during all that, you had no direct contact with your family?”

“Nope.”

Alex brow furrowed, and he worried his lip. “Then… How do you know that they hate you for accepting the money?”

There were so many things he could have done differently and probably still could. Robbie couldn’t however explain the lead weight in his stomach that presented itself every time he thought of his closest relatives. So, he remained silent.

Not the smartest move and Alex picked up on his discomfort of the subject.

He flattened out his palm over Robbie’s ribcage, finally leaving the poor greying strands of hair alone. “Sorry,” he murmured.

_Guilt_.

 

That was the name of the monster under the bed and in the closet. The intangible creature that you feared.

 

“You say that a lot. That you’re sorry.” Maybe he couldn’t explain it himself, but he was starting to have his suspicions, that he wasn’t the only one to feel this way. It was a shitty move of reflecting his issues like this on the other, yet he had to know.

He blinked and looked up. “I do?” Blue eyes wide. “I didn’t realise.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “and not just out of politeness. I don’t understand why or what you’re sorry about.”

 

‘ _Why do you act so guilty?_ ’

 

Something flicked behind his eyes and Robbie swore he could see the steel shutter starting to come down. “No, you stop that. Out with it. “

“I don’t know what you… I’m sorry, I don’t know…” He looked lost.

“You just said ‘ _sorry_ ’ again,” he pointed out.

Alex face fell.

Well, shit.

He kissed his brow in silent apology and enveloped him, holding him close. Alex burrowed in under his chin and clung to him.

Minutes passed before his voice came muffled against his clavicle, “I hate this pump.”

Go figure, however, Alex had only just begun it would seem.

“I _hate_ that I need it. That I can’t,” he swallowed hard and continued in a shaky exhale, “that I can’t take care of myself and everyone _keeps proving it_. I can’t be impulsive anymore and have to plan everything out. That’s why I’m up this early. I can’t even take a hot shower, or bath, without risking going into hypo apparently. And if I disconnect for too long my body eats and poisons itself.”

Well, there went his plan to share a hot bath together, though he thought better to not say that out loud. A level had broken, and Alex was spilling everything now.

Holding him, Robbie felt like an ass for feeling this, yet, he _did_ feel like he needed to see him like this. Vulnerable and honest about what was really going on with him. Not the Adonis that he’d been physically attracted to in the beginning. But the whole damn package that he had fallen head over heels for.

“And then you… You were right, _everyone_ was right.” There was vitriol in his voice. Robbie kept rubbing his naked back in what he hoped was in a soothing manner. “Bessie wanted me to go on sick leave when you started.”

Wait what? He spoke up, “hold on a sec. I was your _replacement?_ ” This was news to him.

“No,” he assured him, “we needed to ease up the workload a long time ago, my condition made it that more acute. But, I got it into my head somehow. I was angry, and I took it out on you, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even understand myself what I was doing until... When you ran out of my flat like that, I, I was afraid that you’d do something. The way you…” another shaky hot breath against his skin, “I was terrified.”

Robbie was many things. But, _actively_ suicidal wasn’t one of them! The notion was fleeting however, this wasn’t about him, for a change.

His voice was small. “I’m so sorry.”

God, was he still beating himself up over that? At worst he had been detached about him. “I’ve forgiven you. You _know_ that.” He hoped so anyway. Robbie had wanted to hate him forever back when they had had their fight. Before Alex had made it practically impossible, when he’d made him realise that it wasn’t that simple, because Alex was only human, just as imperfect and uncertain as he himself was. And Robbie in turn had said things to him in the heat of the moment that he regretted. He’d called him an _oppressor_ when he really had meant something closer to ‘ _my way or the highway_ _’_ for crying out loud! No wonder Alex fell back on his native language when need be, English truly was restrictive sometimes.

It seemed to fall on deaf ears. “My family and friends keeps asking me, not _if_ , but _when_ , I’ll ‘ _come back home_ ’. I was starting to think that they were right about that as well.”

His question from earlier he realised.

Alex didn’t seem to have a wide social circle outside of work. _Was he lonely?_ Robbie’s own isolation was self-inflicted and voluntary, and he wasn’t in a foreign country either! But, in a way, he could understand.

“I keep doing this wrong. Whatever I’m doing, it’s not the right thing and I keep making you uncomfortable because I don’t know when to stop pushing for more. And I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never _wanted_ anyone like this before. And you deserve better.” He clung to him if anything tighter, like a man drowning, squeezing the life out of him and he welcomed it. “ _Þ_ _u ert svo f_ _ín,_ ” he said against him, his tenor voice caught on a broken note.

What Robbie deserved was for whatever Alex had hung up on to cease this instant and to kick whoever’s ass that had made him think that _he_ of all people was the undeserving one in this relationship, even Alex’s own ass if need be. He still didn’t know how to voice his own issues, but he could try from now on. It was only fair. “I did ask, didn’t I? And it’s not your fault that I’m being a difficult jerk. Fuck, I _need_ you to push for more.” He tilted his head down to kiss the top of his head. Robbie had understood about half of what he’d called him, he was ‘ _something something_ ’, but judging by the way he said it, it was a term of endearment. “I love you too.” It seemed like the right thing to say.

He sighed, “I want to be your ‘ _as good as it gets_ ’. I know it doesn’t make sense.” Finally, Alex let go enough to look up at him. His eyes were a bit red rimmed and one of the ends of the moustache was slightly crooked. Perfectly imperfect. “I thought I’d been in love before. I was wrong about that too.”

“I’m not complaining about that in particular.” He smoothed out the skin between his eyes with his thumb and continued, “if you hadn’t caught me yesterday, I would have done absolutely nothing and carried on mooning over you like a massive idiot. You have no idea how much _I_ want you. Ever since I first saw you.”

Alex brow rose, undoing Robbie’s work. “Really? But, even when I…?”

They were both massive idiots. Not a good combination when it came to initiate and voice romantic interest, as all evidence pointed to. “Yup,” he said, it felt true at the moment anyway, and stroke his cheek. He’d been so fucking scared of rejection, to do something, _anything_ , that he’d been willing to let _this_ pass him by, had not the other man on a whim made a move and kissed him, effectively kick starting Robbie to throw caution to the wind and take what he wanted.

Alex took hold of his shoulders and pulled up on the same level. “I love you,” he said and slotted their lips together. Robbie took the opportunity to roll them over so that he had Alex secured under him and kissed him again long and hard. Wanting to transfer what they had left unsaid.

 

Now this was more like it. He had him exactly where he wanted him. Warm and solid, yet yielding under his weight as he found his refuge between his thighs.

Feeling like home.

Fingers were working their way inside the backside of the silky pyjama bottoms to clutch and knead his buttocks. Only thing separating them were two pieces of thin fabric. Experimentally, he rocked slowly down into the heat and the other moaned.

“Something on your mind?” Resting on one elbow over him, he dragged his blunt nails against Alex’s scalp and he in turn leaned into it. The weird, _endearing_ , moustache completed the image of an affectionate feline in some way.

Alex bit his lip and looked up at him, cheeks rosy and eyes glinting. Almost timidly he voiced, “could you do me?”

Robbie wasn’t going to lie, he was stunned there for a second, it quickly enough was replaced by excitement over the prospect. “Yes, he exhaled, surprising himself with how deep his voice sounded, “ _yes_.”

 

Sure, arguably, Robbie didn’t weight that much for his height, and one of these days he’d find out just how strong Alex was, but until then, he’d find delight in how easily he could toss him around like he weighted nothing. It made the fact that he’d let him hold him down that more exciting.

 

With one last lingering kiss he drew back and out of the bed. “I need to wash my face anyway,” he excused himself, since the ‘ _I need to clean out before you fuck me_ ’ went without saying.

“Take the slippers this time, will you?” he gesticulated to the side of the entrance where his maroon slip-ons were. “You’ve gotten lucky so far.” Alex did take them and a beat after the first creaking sounds from the staircase had begun he added flippantly, “by the way, the shower head is detachable.”

A loud thump came from the stairs followed by a, “Robbie!” in a reprimand.

He grinned and settled back in the bed.

 

Robbie hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He really hadn’t, _but_ , in his oh so weak defence, he wasn’t a morning person, _and_ the bed had been soft and warm with traces of the other’s aftershave. Yet, once again, he was awakened by Alex nudging and cuddling up to him, back under the duvet with him.

Waking up like that made it alright. He could really get used to that.

“You fell asleep?” His voice was teasing, a lilt of humour in it as he kissed him awake by following the outline of his jaw and down the tendons of his neck with his mouth. Not answering more than a hum, he followed instinct and stretched out and tilted his head back in a full-bodied arch to give his lover full access to his throat. He took the invitation for what it was and helped himself to the offering before him.

His hand travelled down his side, down his hip to discover to his delight that he was already fully naked, no pesky underwear, no holster, and no pump. He finally opened his eyes, and gripped a handful of wavy blond and pulled, receiving a moan and teeth catching against his Adam’s apple, resulting in his own breath hitching. Using more force than he’d usually do, he tugged him by the hair to bring their mouths together against each other’s, to taste him. Remnants of toothpaste and he’d groomed his facial hair. He tightened his grip and Alex groaned into his mouth again. “You like that?” A genuine question, he’d never known what to do with dirty talk, and he lacked experience, not to speak of reason, for sweet nothings.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes were dark in arousal, making the iris around his dilated pupils almost indigo.

Letting go of his hair, he’d meant to trace his lower lip with his thumb, however Alex took it into his mouth and sucked, holding his gaze as he let it go with a wet pop, and wasn’t that an image that he’d save for later. “Jesus,” he gasped under his breath and his hips hitched against his wiry naked thigh on their own. Alex hummed and moved against him in a tandem.

These ruined pyjama bottoms _had to go!_

Alex may have teased him with his mouth and crude thumb sucking, but Robbie still had a list to check off, and he was if anything more determined now. He threw the duvet to the side, not caring where it went, and disentangled himself from the gorgeous man egging him on to shimmy out of his pants. Alex reached for his exposed hips and groin, but he took his hands in his own and nudged for him to lie back down. If he touched him, he’d explode, he just knew it.

As he kissed his flushed chest, making sure to get his nipples with his tongue and put his mouth on every beauty mark on his sternum, he murmured, “I got unfinished business with your dick.” The only warning he gave before going lower and lower.

“You wha- _ah!_ his question turning into a loud moan as he took him in his mouth. Clean skin, and still the taste of him coming through the longer he had his fun, as well as feeling him growing to full hardness in his grip and tongue.

 

Strong legs had come to rest over his shoulders, crossing over his back, and fingers belonging to callused hands tangled in his own dark locks when he kissed the inside of his thigh again to join in with a multitude of dark marks. He had him marked up real good and he felt more than ready to move on. The friction of the bed under his hips as he ground down felt good, but he needed more, he needed Alex.

Alex, in turn, looked the perfect picture of debauched, red faced and needy noises making past kiss swollen lips, begging for Robbie to come back up and that he wanted to touch him, and with dark eyes looking down at him through pale lashes.

He crawled his way back up and made a surprised yelp when Alex hoisted him the last stretch to bump their noses together and lick into him, to taste himself on him.

Robbie gasped for breath and it was hard to concentrate when he was stroking him torturously featherlight. “How do you, _ahh_ ,” pressing his own face against his lover where neck and shoulder met, “want to do this?”

“I want you from behind.” At least Alex was upfront like that. And Robbie could very, very, well work with that.

 

A stray thought to when he had first laid eyes on the Icelander before him presented itself as he stretched him. The muscular back twitching and working just under the surface and the perfect round ass, and that this was exactly what Robbie had wanted to do to him from that moment on.

“You ready?” He didn’t know how long he could constrain himself to only use his hands, doing what he already had since many times before but also trying to mimic what exactly that had felt mind blowing for himself last night, and judging by the noises, he wasn’t too far off. He would have to buy another bottle of lubrication soon. Open an account solely for purchasing lube.

“A pillow for the angle would be nice,” his voice coming out breathlessly.

“One skank pillow coming up.”

Alex laughed.

He himself smiled fondly behind him as the pillow was secured under the man where he wanted it, touching his back with both his hands in heavy long strokes, indulging in a desire he’d harboured for months, and, it was nice and disarming to be able to not be so bloody serious during sex he came to realise.

“Keep your legs together,” he said and nudged for Alex to arch his back with a hand between his shoulders.

He mounted him, knees on each outside of his lover’s, forcing his legs together and ass high up for him. There were no words in the English vocabulary to capture how exquisite he was before him.

Through the condom he could feel how hot he was around him as he thrust shallowly into him, not being able to tear his eyes away.

Alex keened when he withdrew completely and gasped at the cool contrast when he applied more lube directly from the flask.

Robbie kissed between his shoulder blades and dragged his mouth up to give him one sloppy kiss by his ear as he sank into him fully with one slow thrust. His lover’s jaw dropped from where he could see and let out a long moan. Someone was more vocal than last night. Alex’s voice came out tinting his breath as he took his pleasure in going slow.

Yes, by far more vocal than last night.

He began rocking with earnest, trying to find a rhythm and with every motion Alex made more beautiful noises.

Oh.

 _Oohh_.

How was it that stupid song went again?

‘ _This boy is a-_ ’

Through clenched teeth, Alex whined again, and again, under him as he fucked into him with increasing force. A string of garbled yeses and Robbie’s actual full name in there somewhere.

He drove his hips down, knowing that he’d probably strain his back, but to hell with it all, it felt amazing, was worth it and a problem for later as he kept going. Alex who’d had planted a hand against the wall in front of them to help him rock back against him collapsed and screamed into the linen.

Jackpot.

He gripped his hair to force his head up and bit his shoulder.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Alex cried out into the air openly now. For a split second Robbie thought he’d gone too rough on him, given the unusual profanity in English, but he gasped, “do that again,” begging. And so he did, sinking his teeth into the offered flesh wherever he pleased, until a hand came to grip his under them and intertwine their fingers. He rose enough to let his lover twist and kiss him sloppily that was more tongue than anything else.

And here he had had the nerve, the _audacity_ , to say that last night had been amazing.

He was close, he was hoping Alex was too. “What do you need?” he asked him, his voice rough and coming out sounding like a growl.

Gasping, he tried to say, “I need-” but ended up cutting himself off with a whine. That was entirely on Robbie and he was not sorry, at all. Eventually he managed a, “move back a little.”

He gave him room to get back on his elbows and stroke himself in a broken hopeless mockery of a rhythm. Robbie renewed his grip on the perfect round ass again where he’d left red angry imprints into the supple flesh, finding perfect leverage to thrust into him. His muscles were screaming, and he felt the beginning of a stitch in his side along with the tension in the pit of his stomach well into working itself into the knife’s edge of a climax.

With a broken cry, Alex came, bowing his back and tensing up under and around Robbie before he bonelessly collapsed again. Robbie fell over him with the motion, wanting to cover every inch of him, smother him, as he jerked his hips over and over, letting Alex take his full weight doing so, mewling and muffled cries beneath him, until he tipped over into his own orgasm.

 

For a moment there he must’ve blacked out and he was roused back into consciousness finding himself still holding Alex down, both breathing heavily and in absolute tatters. With an apology on his lips he rolled off and onto his back by his side, giving adequate distance to cool off, yet close enough for their arms to press together in physical contact. He looked his lover’s way and was met with a dazed expression on the other’s face before it broke out into a breathless giggle.

His own split into a wide grin. “What?”

Alex just shook his head and laughed harder, until he got his bearings enough to gasp out, “that… _Wow_. Thanks.”

“Oh no,” Robbie jested, “I fucked your brains out. And you’re _thanking me?_ ”

He began laughing harder.

“You okay though?” He _had_ gone in more than he’d thought himself capable of. He settled onto his side to touch the angry marks he’d left by his shoulders. _He_ _’d done that?_

“Yeah… Uhm, _sorry,_ ” he put emphasis on the word, their previous subject still in mind and in a jest of his own, “I was a bit loud there.”

Robbie scoffed. Honestly, his responsiveness had made it all that more fun for him. “I don’t know about the soundproofing or isolation in your flat, but here, this is one of the perks of living out in the nowhere; no close neighbours and you can be as loud as you wish. Though, that poor pillow might need excessive therapy for sexual trauma now, not to speak of the deer.”

Alex broke out into another fit of laughter at the crude joke. He tried to get up, and with a groan he fell back down on his stomach. “I can’t feel my legs,” he stated.

“Good or bad?”

“I think I cut my blood flow in this position, give me a moment.”

“Well, that settles that. Next time, _you_ _’re_ doing the hard work. On top. Riding. I think I nearly threw my back out.”

Alex hummed in humour then reached out for him. “And you? Besides that?” the question was timid yet heavy.

“Good. _Very_ good. You could’ve told me you were a bottom.” To put it crudely.

He scrunched up his face. “Too many terms. I look away, and suddenly, there’s a new one. It depends on who I’m with.”

“And that means?” he kept pushing, taking the outstretched hand against his mouth.

“You’re _good_ on top.”

Robbie could live with that.

 

He sat up with a groan to get rid of the now ill-fitting condom and get to the tall glass of water they had left since earlier.

“Could you?” his lover’s voice carried from behind him.

Robbie hummed in question of what he wanted from him, and turned to find him still lying on his stomach and waving his arm towards the chair by the bed. He followed the gesture and found Alex’s pump lying on top of it.

“Sure.”

That was about the time that Alex realised that he was lying in his own filth. “Uhm,” he voiced.

“Use whatever is closest,” he said, “I need to change the sheets anyway.”

Alex took off the pillow case that he’d already ruined and used it to wipe himself off and reattach himself to the aid.  

He gave him what was left of the glass of water. “I was going to suggest breakfast and a bath but…” he trailed off, remembering that hot water was not a good thing for him.

Alex perked up. “I’d love that.”

“But, what about?” He made a frustrated noise. “I do _not_ want to risk you crashing again, okay,” he argued.

He had the good taste to look sheepish. “It will be after breakfast, right? I should be fine,” he reassured him.

Oh, well okay then, but still… “How do you do, if you have to submerge the patch and set?”

“They won’t come off that easily.” He rolled over on his back and pointed to the darker patches on his stomach where remnants of adhesive still stuck and explained, “it’s almost impossible to clean off. No matter how much I soak and scrub.”

“I have some acetone in the cupboard that should do the trick.” It was by far more efficient than most over the counter solvents. He had one flask in the bathroom, and another one out in the shed to remove oil and clean the bilge.

 

Another thing he hadn’t meant to, but the task of removing the remnants of adhesives with a bottle of nail polish remover and a cotton swab had turned surprisingly intimate. Could be because he was kneeling between Alex’s legs as he sat in the fuzzy recliner and Robbie’s face close. Close enough to kiss and taste.

 

Nor could he say that he had meant for the day to become a sex-marathon, but that was where it all went, if they kept it up.

The double entendre did not escape him.

 

Alex sighed in the tub, leaning fully into him in his lap, his attached set and glucose monitor just so above the surface and the pump up on a shelf. It was apparently waterproof, but the insulin was on the other hand quite susceptible to the heat.

“Do you want to try one?” He held a pellet before him, having shaken one out of a small container he’d brought with them close to the tub.

It tasted sweet like candy. “What’s that?” he asked around sucking on the white pill.

“Fructose pills. It enters slowly into my bloodstream and keeps my blood sugar levels even. Until I can do something about it, I guess.”

He hummed and drew him closer. Alex joined in and arched with a happy sigh when his hand travelled down his form.

 

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, he did mean for it to turn into a sex-marathon.

 

And, it was with reluctance that they came to realise that Alex had to go home in the late afternoon.

 

With the bus coming careening towards them down the country road, Alex stood on his toes and drew Robbie down to meet him in a sweet kiss, working his jaw and lips against his. God, he could die like this. Before he pulled away in time for the large vehicle to slow down into a halt and open its doors.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” he said. Grinning in unadulterated joy, eyes crinkling as his apple-cheeks bounced up. Robbie had half a mind to tug him back down and keep him forever.

“ _You bet_ ,” he said instead, voice distorted by his own face splitting grin and still somewhat breathless from the assault.

 

He watched the bus disappear around a bend in the distance and then, finally, he let out a loud whoop in triumph and did a dance around and across the whole road, nearly falling into the ditch, caught himself and carried on, making gleeful noises and jumping up and down.

 

Not what he’d thought would happen in his life. Not by a mile!

 

He sent a message later in the evening, feeling stupid, but he’d feel worse if he didn’t.

‘ _Did you get home safe?_ ’ His first instinct had been to type _I miss you_ , but he caught himself at the last second after staring blindly at the words.

Alex answered shortly after. ‘ _Yes! The bus took a lot of detours, but I made it._ ’

He was about to type another one wishing him goodnight, but Alex beat him to it. It had a lot of heart emojis, some he’d never seen before, and he answered in kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fin" could mean a lot of things, mostly 'Lovely' in this context, yet not enough... It depends on how you say it.
> 
> One chapter left and by faaaaaar the longest one bc we got _a lot_ of ground to cover.


	21. Alex the Human (Disaster)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recollections of feelings, impressions and broken conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated accordingly, I suggest looking through them before reading this chapter.  
> I never meant to write this chapter like this. But, once I passed the 10k word count there was no stopping this train wreck.  
> So here, here's over 33k worth of angst, over the top melodrama, and unfiltered gibberish that I've been saving up on for the past months.

Bessie was a gossip. But, she also knew how to keep a secret. The chitchat she entertained herself with was only the tip of the iceberg.

It made it somewhat unnerving, speculating on just how much information the woman actually sat on.

 

“Honestly, I can’t make heads or tails out of this. What do you think?” she asked him, wearing her reading glasses, which was never a good sign. She’d requested for Alex to come into her office before their normal working hours, to look over the only decent applicant they had, for all that the volunteers did, they were unable to come in to work full time, not until summer started, or until they were either finished with their studies. So, here they were.

All because of Alex himself.

She’d given him the rundown of the physical meeting with Mr. Rotten. He’d been _a darling_ , and with an unbid hint she’d said, he seemed very _out_.

Not that he knew what to make of that, or that whatever Mr. Rotten was into, nor if the man liked to wear mascara, was of interest to him. He was only interested if this was someone he could work with and, most importantly, trust around the kids.

So, despite his meagre experiences, the man had left a positive impression. Personality-wise and the only reasonable one they could get to start on such short notice, and with an education that would make him adequate to introduce to their workplace.

But, looks could be all too deceiving.

 

And it had been more than pale lashes that the man had obscured, apparently.

 

With a sigh he put the folder down and rubbed his jaw and mouth in thought.

 _This_ was the person they were seriously considering taking in to facilitate their workload?!

The actual excerpt from the police showed very little, an old sentence to juvenile community service for joyriding that would be removed from the register in another three months and was the worst of it. Officially.

Unofficially, however…

Their head of security at City Hall, Mr. Obtuse, had done a little digging further back in the past of what might be lurking there. And what he’d found was disheartening, for many reasons.

It had been a considerable amount of _incidents_. Theft, vandalism, illegal driving, more joyriding, suspicion of aiding in extortion, several notions of being a person of interest in relation to perpetrators under investigation. All of them up until the man had turned twenty. Interestingly enough none of physical assault, this Robert Rotten had had many connections but was not a brawler himself it would seem. It was quite impressive that community service and damage costs were the most that had ever come out of it as punishment. Very unusual… At least one of these charges should’ve had him short-term incarcerated.

The worst of it, in Alex’s opinion, went further back though, before he’d turned the age of criminal responsibility. Acquisition and holding of drugs for transfer, when he’d been only _fourteen!_

He’d been a courier. Not all too surprising. That was usually how it started.

 

Old established perpetrators preying on children to do their bidding, since they were untouchable by the law, and who then took their place like some twisted succession since they had nowhere else to go when they got older.

Knowing this profile, from experience in his previous work, he _knew_ that it had most likely been more than drugs the then kid had stored or transferred and for far longer until adulthood.

You’d be surprised how good families were at keeping things under wraps. And Robert Rotten did not seem to be the only person of interest, crime seemed to run in the family on the mother’s side. Mr. Obtuse had near frothed at the mouth when the name Glanni Glæpur, a late uncle and some kind of master defrauder, had come up -according to Bessie anyway.

A momentary absence when he was twenty one, then made a blip when he’d come over an impressive amount of money when he was shy of twenty three and was only of notion because of the name Glanni Glæpur yet again, but nothing overly shady, sad instead, it was a life insurance outcome apparently.

And then… Nothing.

Nothing from the police’s side anyway.

The man had paid off compensations for damages he’d accumulated from his past crimes and public records showed that he’d enrolled in school to finish compulsory level, since he’d dropped out when he was fifteen. Bought estate, enrolled in community college and finished his higher studies one year ago. A worrying one year gap, he’d been on unemployment benefits and then that had ended...

It was a lot of information to take in.

It was frightening just how much personal information you could pull up on a person. And made his own attempts to keep his private life _private_ back when he’d been a public figure seem null and void.

“Well?” Bessie voiced after Alex had been quiet for too long.

“Is this all they could find?”

“So it would seem. Obtuse can be very thorough… When need be.”

And now she wanted his opinion. He wasn’t supposed to know of this Mr. Rotten’s excerpt, let alone what Obtuse had found, however, Alex had _personal expertise_ in this area. Well, this was his take on it. “The fact that he’s stayed out of trouble for almost ten years and gotten himself an education is a very positive sign. More so that he’s finished school and college. Judging by that, I’d say that he wants a normal life.” Whatever normal was. Many did try to better themselves and all they needed really was a way back into society. They could be the doorway for this man, but at what cost?

Robert Rotten had no known history of assault, and especially of the sexual kind, or abuse towards people in dependant position, though, you’d have to get close to them in the first place for that… This wasn’t a school, or a disability unit, but a youth centre. Many other youth centres had ex offender work programs, so this would not be _too_ outrageous.

For the extent of Mr. Rotten’s past transgressions, it wasn’t _that_ bad, all things considered.

They had had worse applicants in the past.

Far, _far_ , worse.

 

There was a reason that they now requested the excerpt directly from the police and not through the applicant. The physical documents were too easy to manipulate by hand.

And working with children, or other people in situation of dependence, was a magnet for sexual predators.

Some he’d met personally back when he’d helped out in recruiting.

It was worse when you knew beforehand the _monster_ sitting on the other side of the interviewing table -and not to let it on. Because the departments weren’t supposed to share information, but they did, just as he had read through Robert Rotten’s excerpt along with all the dirt they could find on him.

As it was, he hadn’t met _this_ man in person and had thus no reference of how he was. He said, “I still think we should wait for the regular summer recruitment.”

“Alex, you know we can’t,” Bessie argued. They had been over this many times this past week alone.

Ever since Alex had gone into hypoglycemic shock and passed out.

It had been a little over one week since his accident in the office and sheer luck that Penny had entered shortly after, to find him unconscious on the floor. Which had prompted to get another diagnosis, along with a different endocrinologist, when it had turned out that he didn’t have diabetes two, but LADA.

An autoimmune disease.

Bessie had already made up her mind. Asking for his opinion was redundant, he thought.

“Put him on a trial period then,” he suggested. “Restrict his access until the IT and HR department have thoroughly processed him.”

Bessie pursed her red painted lips and nodded sagely. She gave him a long scrutinizing look past her glasses, squinting. What now? She’d given him a lot of those _looks_ as of lately. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

He smiled stiffly back at her. “I feel fine. Don’t worry.”

“You tell me if that changes.” Another _look_ over her reading glasses at him. “I don’t want you to burn your candle at both ends, you hear me?” she said in a sterner tone. “I suggest that you take out sick leave, if need be. If Robert delivers, then you-”

Not this again. “I don’t have to _. I_ _’m feeling fine_ ,” he emphasised.

It was a constant reminder that he couldn’t keep up anymore, that they so desperately had expedited the recruitment process in January. It wasn’t a worry if he’d crash again, but a direct question of _when_.

It made him feel like a burden.

What almost made it worse, was that Bessie’s worry came from a place of well intention.

Having Elisabeth Busybody as a superior was more than having a boss sometimes, she had fifteen years on him, yet sometimes, it felt like he’d gained another mother in a way. They had met through a joint project between departments nearly six years ago. And, perceptive as she was, almost too perceptive sometimes, she’d seen that he was more than ready to move on from his current workplace and that LazyTown would be a better fit. And she’d been right, he had already taken distance courses in pedagogy, already looking for a way out, and was ready to start almost instantly.

 

He rose from the chair. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you for coming in this early. It means a lot.”

“No problem.” Not that he had any greater things planned outside of work or people to meet. He’d already been to the gym in the morning. He supposed he could grab lunch somewhere until his actual working hours started, and a mental note that he needed to check his values… Again.

 

Without his work there wasn’t much else for him to do. Taking out sick leave would _kill_ him.

 _Was he really in such a rut?_ Surely it wasn’t the end, but he really did love his job.

 

He hummed. “I’ll see you later today.” With his hand on the handle he added, “you know, having someone who’s been through the rough end as a youth might be good.”

“Gotten the rough end of the stick?” she clarified what he’d meant. “Yes, I hoped you would agree with me on that,” Bessie chirped, “kids listen better when it’s someone who _knows_ things. I will call him right away. Thank you for your input.”

‘ _For whatever it did_ ,’ he thought. He’d merely verified her decision.

They never had this meeting as far as anyone knew. Strictly off the record.

 

* * *

 

In the middle of dealing with another one of Ziggy’s tantrums, they were introduced.

“I got our lamb to the slaughter,” Penny jested, she’d been tasked with showing the new guy around the place, as she approached him and tilted her head towards where she’d come from.

Crude, but in a way true, and with a smile he’d turned to see who this new person was.

He didn’t know what he’d expected to be honest. Of what description Bessie had given, it didn’t quite match up.

Robert… Or, _Robbie_ , as he preferred…

He was tall, outright towering over Alex. And gangly, too skinny, hollow eyed, and pale. Yet, had styled his dark hair and was smartly dressed. A bit too smartly for their line of work.

Bessie had gushed over him, though, as good as a judge of personality as she was, he had his doubts.

For a moment there he was at a loss, not sure of how to feel about the stranger. Was this man what Bessie had hoped to be able to ease their work? To replace Alex himself if need be?

And, judging by his wild look, he didn’t know what to make of him either.

His eyes were pale. Were they green? Blue?

He extended his hand for him, introducing himself, and completely blew it.

It was an old habit, he’d met enough tall people that’d tried to put Alex in his place, ever since he’d been a young adult.

By now it was a reflex.

And it was a big mistake.

He saw the flash of pain of the other’s face and realised too late that he’d overdone the strength in his grip. By a mile!

The best course of action would be to apologise and move on. Instead, he found himself looking away from the cringing man and talking to Penny. And he really should’ve worded that differently, though Penny seemed none the wiser at his blatant blunder, or she did and was why he found himself the object of ridicule for the kiosk.

Ziggy’s outcry was as sent from above.

He shouldn’t indulge in the young child’s tantrums. It was only feeding a negative spiral, but he was desperate enough to get away from the interaction, before he ruined it further.

The steely glare Robbie gave him as he cradled his hand was not uncalled for. He’d have to apologize for that later, and he did try to say so, his own voice sounding detached somehow.

 

Alex pushed his hair back, he needed a haircut. He had the hat that Jives, one of their older regulars, used to be a regular anyway, had given him. He could put it on to keep it away from his face, as soon as he’d dealt with _this_. “Ziggy?” he tried to disarm the situation. “Take a deep breath, then tell us what-” Another ear shattering cry from the rotund child, the volunteer looked back at him in desperation. ‘ _Or maybe not._ ’ Ziggy was too young to be at LazyTown to begin with. He’d turned nine just _last month_. The options were either to have a talk with his parents, or get him an aide of his own age group, though chances of that were slim. Ziggy had already alienated those around him by now with his outbursts. Most likely they would have to ban him until he was of actual age… In another eleven months… There _had_ to be a better way.

 

Sometimes, he wished he was an undisciplined nine year old and, just, _wail_ at whatever he found displeasure about.

 

“What do you think of Robbie?” Bessie asked him later, after he’d shared his worries about Ziggy Zweets.

“He seems... Alright. We’ve only been introduced to each other.”

She nodded and gave him a too plain look. “You can tell him that he can go home early. There isn’t much going on since last I checked and he’s been in the kiosk since… Four?

He’d been in there for nearly three hours?

As much as Alex disliked the kiosk, it was apparently common knowledge by now, he knew enough that it helped keeping the whole building afloat by measurement of output in form of amount of visitors, even if they only came in to buy chocolate, or soda.

…He was more than happy not to be the one selling them junk and sweets.

But, that was a bit harsh for a first day.

At least Robbie knew how the cash register worked, if anything.

“Yes, sure,” he said and ventured down.

She merely hummed as he exited.

This might be a good time as any to apologize for his earlier blunder.

Yet, somehow, it slipped him by. He’d been too preoccupied telling him to dress according to their work -and then the visceral reaction to Penny holding up an apple towards him. Robbie had paled even further and thrown himself at the wall behind himself, trying to get away. That wasn’t normal.

It was an apple, practically harmless.

 

Did they have to include phycological assessments from now on?

 

Nevermind.

 

Robbie was allergic to certain types of fresh produce? He’d heard of it before, partly through his own autoimmune disease. Robbie’s condition was rare, but not unheard of. They already had a no citrus policy in place for good reason. Penny’s gesture of comradery could be equal to holding a live grenade in front of him.

It would explain why Robbie looked so malnourished.

 

“Funny guy,” Penny stated as they watched Robbie leave. “I wonder if he’s qualified enough though.”

‘ _Not by a long shot,_ ’ an inner voice said, sounding ugly. “We’ll see,” he said instead.

“Guess you have to get practical experience from somewhere.”

 

* * *

 

The cold spell had taken him by surprise. Tights or not under his jeans, his knee had opinions about the cold, nor were the hand brakes or the gears too happy about it either. It was with certain _respect_ he took on the downhills. He was late, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one, and understandably Robbie wasn’t pleased with waiting outside. His jacket did look a bit too thin for this weather…

He did as well look a bit like an angry cat when he scrunched up his nose that way and retorted Alex’s apology with, “that’s what happens to derailleurs and brakes when it’s cold.”

_A derai-what now?_

 

He noted that he was wearing makeup now. Bessie had been right about that part then... Not that that told anything beyond that.

Staring was rude, and he turned his gaze away in the changing room. Before he got to say something, try and make small talk, _anything_ , Robbie had exited in a flurry. Because he’d made him wait outside? He could only wonder.

He took the opportunity to take out his phone.

‘ _Derailleur_ ’ he looked up the foreign word, ‘ _a bicycle mechanism that moves the chain out and up, allowing it to_ _shift to different cogs._ ’

Oh. You always learned something new.

He looked up and spotted that Robbie had forgotten his keys, still in the padlock. Locker o’ one, he made an amused sound at the discovery.

 

And Robbie was dependent on the bus. There was little to no surprise then that he’d been upset, if he’d been waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes for someone to let him in. Maybe he could set up a schedule with Penny, until he himself could guarantee to come in on time. Or until IT and HR was done processing. He really hadn’t thought this through.

 

* * *

 

Alex had kept a distance to overlook Robbie’s performance. As a consequence he didn’t know much about Robbie as a person, though Bessie and Penny were all too happy sharing details over Robbie, whether he’d asked or not. He supposed he was an okay guy based on that. He was a bit awkward around the visitors, but that was only natural, considering that he lacked the practical experience so far.

However, Robbie was an exceptionally quick study when it came to their administrative work. Alex would have to give him that. Though he didn’t have his own log in for their computers and the overall system yet, he’d sit beside Penny in the beginning and then take over almost seamlessly. Maybe a bit too hasty in sending his emails, if the occasional misspelling seen in the correspondence was anything to go by. English was Robbie’s native language, how could there be repetitive misspellings even Alex picked up on?

 

* * *

 

He had no need for a car outside of work, but whenever the opportunity presented itself to run errands, he’d more than willingly take it. Even if it was only for a short stretch across town to pick up Robbie’s ID, there was just this sense of _freedom_ and the feel of motion he couldn’t get enough of.

Robbie on the other hand did not seem to share that sentiment. He noted that he’d taken hold of the grab handle and gone eerily quiet beside him. Really?

However, he did look frazzled and Alex was a little worried when he slipped on the pavement the moment he got out of the car. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m driving on the way back!” he spat and went inside the building.

Wow, okay then. _Sorry_.

It wasn’t _that_ bad. He was driving lawfully, and Alex had never gotten a penalty point. ‘ _Unlike Robbie,_ ’ he thought while he waited for his new colleague to come back outside.

Until then, he’d catch a few rays now that he was outside and try to enjoy the here and now.

Alex heard Robbie come back and to a halt nearby. He opened his eyes. He looked a little dazed, but not as sullen as he’d left and a much better look on him in his opinion.

“You got your keycard?” he asked.

Robbie gave him a positive, seeming caught off guard and clutching the new card against his chest. Which could only mean that the HR department had done it _again_ and given out yet another unflattering card. His own wasn’t very impressive, and lets leave it at that.

“You don’t like my driving?” he teased when was about to re-enter the car and Robbie groused about that he was the one to drive them back.

“I’ve been in one or two car accidents. Call me cautious,” he explained in a flat unamused voice.

Alex froze up, hand still on the cold handle. He’d been in accidents? _Helv_ _íti_. He remembered the excerpts, of course Robbie must’ve had. How could he not have thought of that?!

His upset state must’ve shown inside the hatchback, and Robbie elaborated a little, that he shouldn’t worry, in his own roundabout way.

He nodded along. Of course he stressed him out. Even if Robbie didn’t have trauma from it, there was clearly a need for being the one in control when in a car.

Alex made a mental note to take it easy from now on whenever he was driving Robbie somewhere.

“Hey, can I see your keycard?” he asked, partly out of genuine curiosity, but also because he wanted to think of something else than how it had happened, if Robbie had been the one driving, or he’d been a passenger, if the driver had been driving under the influence. Too many questions, and half of them he wasn’t supposed to know to ask of.

Robbie handed over the card, still looking at the road straight ahead.

HR had really outdone themselves this time. There were bad shots, and then there was _this_. Maybe not the best choice of words he’d used, saying out loud that he looked like a ‘ _hardened criminal’,_  but this really did look like one of those mugshots perpetrators had. He couldn’t help but laugh and stealing a glance up to compare.

Robbie cracked a rare smile that softened his features, his eyes glinting in green from the winter sun.

The harsh photo looked _nothing_ like Robbie.

 

* * *

 

“How are things?” his brother asked him on his end of the line.

“ _Æ_ ,” he noised, having fallen back on his native language the moment he saw who was calling, “it’s alright. The new guy at work is catching up. I think Bessie’s plan was to let him be on the floor to supervise the visitors, so that I could take over the administrative duties. But at the speed he’s at, it’ll probably be the other way around.”

“You sound happy about it,” Álfur stated.

There was an accusatory tone in his voice he didn’t appreciate. “Maybe so,” he retorted.

“What’s he like then?”

“He’s tall,” he blurted out, the first thing to come to mind. “Almost two meters tall.”

“I asked what the new guy was like. _And you describe his height?_ Now I’m even more curious.” There was a clatter somewhere in the background. Álfur’s kids most likely. Twins, as fiery redhaired as their father, and unrelenting troublemakers. “Excuse me a moment,” he said and disappeared, Alex continued to stretch on the yoga matt while he waited. It felt good doing so before going to bed. And a nice personal reminder that he hadn’t lost his flexibility. He’d breathed into a front split. “You still there?”

“Yes,” he voiced. “What was it?”

“Halli and Halla were fighting. It’s almost eight here and they’re _cranky_. Stanza has put them in timeout and given them seven minutes each in their rooms.”

“Negative and Positive incentive?”

“Something like that. We give them tokens, stickers they put in a book each have, that they can exchange for fun activities when they’ve collected different amounts. We call them _Energy Books_.”

Alex thought of Ziggy’s outbursts when he didn’t get his way. “And when they’re bad?”

“Put them in their rooms. It works on Halli. Halla? So and so, she’s still testing her boundaries.”

“That’s what happens when you name them _Halli_ and _Halla_.” It had been a joke between the couple when Anastasía, ‘ _Stanza_ ’, had left the stage to become a dance choreographer, only to find out that she was expecting twins at the same time. That she felt like she was lugging around two rocks.

“It’s their middle names,” Álfur groaned. “It wasn’t supposed to be their given names, but they won’t listen to anything else. And, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t really know him,” he answered truthfully.

“Have you _talked_ to him.”

He had. A little. “He’s not the most social guy either,” he countered.

“Seriously? Nothing? He comes in, does _your_ paperwork, and then leaves?”

Alex felt like he was selling them both short here. “He has some other good qualities.”

“Such as?” He could practically hear the grin on his brother’s face.

“He’s… Okay. He looks okay.” There, he’d said it. Had he not looked so unwell, Alex supposed he would’ve looked endearing… In a way.

“And that’s why you told me he was _tall?_ You are so predictable. Is he dark as well?” he teased.

‘ _Dark haired_. _And with grey mottled eyes_.’ “It’s a workplace, not a dating service,” he argued. Yes, superficially, Robbie was easy enough on the eyes, when he wasn’t prickly, when he smiled. Surprisingly nice profile and… Backside.

Yes, easy enough to rest your eyes on, but, he didn’t _know_ him. And what he _did_ wasn’t helping.

“Uhu,” came from the phone speaker.

Teasing was all fine and he hoped that it stayed at that. The last thing he needed was for his brother to join in with the rest of opinions. He did well when he was single, a bit _too well_ apparently.

He didn’t want to meet anyone. _Not anymore_.

His brother let it be, unfortunately he switched to a subject that was worse. “What did your doctor say?”

Next thing you’d know, he’d probably start asking him if he’d thought of moving back to Iceland.

“I no longer produce any insulin on my own.” To sum it up for him. He needed insulin on the regular to avoid _ketoacidosis_ ; his body using his fat when there was no insulin to help use the sugar in his blood for energy, and by doing so poisoned itself with ketones. All he could do was trying to keep his blood sugar even. The issue wasn’t that he could hit dangerously high levels, quite the opposite.

“And the hypo?”

Case in point. He settled to sit cross legged, finished with his routine. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Back when it had been confirmed that he had diabetes, he’d never thought that _low blood sugar_ would be a problem.

For the _wrong_ kind of diabetes he’d been diagnosed with. He’d found his levels fluctuate to the negative, along with his mood, too often for comfort.

“Your boss might be onto something there though. Taking it slower might not be such a bad idea, for the time being. Stress isn’t good. Think about it, will you?” He must’ve spoken to their mother, it sounded _exactly_ like her argument from last he’d spoken to their parents. Stress could be a triggering factor.

Always _reminding_ him was a triggering factor! It was bad enough that he might have hypoglycaemia unawareness. He couldn’t tell, until it hit him like a ton of bricks. That, or got surprisingly thin skinned.

“You should apply for a pump.”

He’d heard that one before from others. Alex would rather not. Having to take injections several times per day was bad enough and felt constricting, but he wasn’t hooked up to some _machine_ at all times at least. He was still free to move around unhindered and not lugging around a device that screamed for attention for all the wrong reasons. He made a noncommittal sound. “I got to go to bed. Tell Stanza I said hi.”

“Alright. Take care.”

 

* * *

 

The following day he came in earlier for work, to do _his own_ paperwork, but since Robbie’s bus came in quarter past one he was soon there as well with him.

He blinked at the outburst. Had the other man never seen his computer glasses before? Nor did he know his age and he literally hid behind his screen from the awkward situation. It was a compliment! One he was used to even! But, it depended on who delivered it, he supposed.

 

Alex couldn’t say that he approved of Penny’s impromptu shopping sprees, how carelessly she spent without thought of consequence. And judging by Robbie’s openly appalled expression, neither did he.

 

Robbie had a dry sense of humour, when he announced their upcoming event. He could appreciate that. And came over to look at the distribution group the other had asked for his help with. There were still some things he had the senior knowledge of when it came to their system. Give it another week, now that Robbie had full access, and that information asymmetry would probably change completely.

Having taken his glasses on had made him realise how much he needed them… Especially after he’d taken them _off!_ He silently cursed and leaned closer to the screen, infringing on Robbie’s personal space he realised a little too late. Getting momentarily side-tracked by the heat he was radiating and the traces of aftershave, or was it the pomade he used?

‘ _Focus,_ ’ he berated himself and read the list.

It checked out and told him so.

Glasses or not, he spotted the misspellings in the actual text at the last second and halted Robbie from hitting send. There were too many of them. Did he not proofread his writing? _At all?_ There was a spelling program attached he could use. He activated it.

Robbie winced and shrunk in on himself, probably embarrassed.

“I thought you’d studied English?” he tried to joke.

Somehow, the man shrunk even further, and his voice was brittle and small when he said, “I’m dyslectic.”

_He was what?_

 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I’m dyslectic,” he repeated louder, sounding agitated, bristling, and Alex realised his mistake, too late.

Alex had had dyslectic colleagues before. They’d had special aid for that and they were entitled to it. Why hadn’t Robbie asked for it? “Wait here,” he said and left to tell Bessie that they needed to set up dyslectic aid so that Robbie could do his work.

He knocked and entered. “Bessie, it’s Robbie. We need to get him a different software system.”

“What?” She looked up from her work. “Why?”

“Robbie has dyslexia,” he explained.

“Where is he?”

“In the office… He just told me.”

Her face drew into a pinched expression at the last part and swore under her breath. “ _Please_ tell me you’ve informed him that he’s entitled to aid _before_ you _ran_ in here?”

“Uh…” No, no he hadn’t, he realised. He’d left Robbie, in his agitated state, to go tell her.

His moment of floundering was enough of a clue for her.

“Men, I swear to god,” she lamented and passed him. “Robbie, when I asked you if there was anything else we needed to know about you, this is exactly what I meant,” she started.

 

Alex stood by to watch and made another realisation.

Robbie was ashamed over his learning disabilities. _That’s_ why he hadn’t asked for aid!

 

She mouthed at him, ‘ _tell him,_ ’ on her way back into his office after informing Robbie, who now looked shell shocked from the _Elisabeth Experience,_  of what needed to get done. “Men,” she muttered once again under her breath.

 

Robbie was right, and so was Bessie, he shouldn’t have left the room to fetch her like that. But, did Robbie think _that_ little of him? That he’d _actively sabotage_ him?!

 

Then Robbie explained that he hadn’t known that he was dyslectic until well into his twenties.

 

How was that even possible? What kind of school was so, so, _til helvitis!_ That they couldn’t pick up on this type of learning disability?

No wonder he’d dropped out. Even if he hadn’t run with a bad crowd, he didn’t exactly have incentive to stay in school. Not if it had already set him up for failure by its passivity and failing to meet his needs.

Hadn’t even his family picked up on it? If school staff didn’t, then often a parental figure would.

A lot of things must’ve fallen into place for Robbie after he’d gotten his diagnosis. He could only imagine.

It was with newfound respect for the man he watched him leave the room to join Bessie to arrange for the setup.

 

* * *

 

He’d barely shut the glass door behind him, muting out the noise from the court beneath them where Robbie was nursing his damaged pride, when Bessie started. “Alex, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she thundered, taking him completely off guard at the harsh tone and he stood there stupefied.

“E, excuse me?” he stammered.

“I hired Robbie based on your assessment, and for you to help guide into our work routines. _Not for you to have someone to bully and take out your frustrations on!_ ”

Alex was stunned. _What?!_ He’d tossed an apple for Trixie, another one of their livelier young regulars, to catch. And out of nowhere had Robbie’s head come. Right into the crossfire. It was an accident, an honest mistake. “That apple was an accident,” he defended. “I haven’t-”

“You might as well have, by others accounts. I’m at fault here too, because I should have confronted you much earlier. Penny told me that his hand was all bruised up because of you, from his _first day_.”

He’d… Oh no... He had done that? “I, I didn’t…” He was at loss for words. “I didn’t think that I…” _How had he missed that?_

“I don’t know of the legislations in Iceland, but over _here_ it can be grounds for a report. For _assault and bodily harm!_ ” her voice rose on the end.

He felt like a child being berated. They were friends, but she was also his superior. They both knew that, and she would not hold her punches.

“Then this Tuesday,” she said flatly.

When he’d scared Robbie for leaving him the moment after he’d found out about his dyslexia and, once again _accidentally_ , put him on the spot for his learning disabilities. He nodded stiffly, indicating that he understood what she was referring to.

“And _then_ I go out and see you throwing things at him with my own two eyes? I don’t care if you wanted to wait until summer or that we should’ve hired someone else. If you want him gone, well, that’s not your call to make. We can’t _afford_ to lose him.”

“I understand.” His mouth felt dry.

“Anything you might want to add?”

‘ _I wish you hadn_ _’t showed me his history._ ’ He swallowed thickly. “No, I don’t want him to quit either.”

“This needs to stop, Alex. I’m going to call Robbie up to hear his side of this fine mess and pray that he still wants to stay.” She said then, sounding almost motherly, which made it all that much worse, “I thought better of you than this.”

Feeling absolutely floored, he went through the side door into their own office space and out of view, not wanting to be seen by Robbie. When he heard him go into Bessie’s office he exited their own and went down the stairs.

Stephanie was there, hands on her hips and a glower on her small face under the bubble-gum pink bangs. She was their newest regular in LazyTown, having moved in from another town because of issues at home, that he wasn’t supposed to know of officially either, and was Milford’s, and in ways Bessie’s, niece. Her intentions were well-meaning, but somewhat misdirected as she said, “I hope she’s giving him a stern talking to. He’s a bully.”

“Stephanie, Robbie isn’t bullying me,” he tried to make her listen. Apparently, it was the _opposite_ if HR got involved. He had no idea what Robbie was telling Bessie up in the office this very moment.

She puffed out her cheeks in displeasure. “But, he called you names!”

Normally a problem, but these weren’t normal circumstances. “I accidentally hit his head and he was _hurt_. It _was_ wrong of me to throw an apple across the room after I had told others not to, and I’ve learned my lesson.” He had said that throwing around foodstuff was prohibited. Yet had made himself an exception, thinking that the indoor court was okay, and as long as it was _he_ doing the throwing. Robbie had been right to call him out on that.

“He called you clutz,” she pointed out. “That’s not nice.”

“You sometimes say things that you don’t really mean when you’re hurt.” God, he hoped that that was true.

Something must’ve gotten stuck in his moustache and tickled his nose into sneezing. Looking up after wiping his nose, he spotted Robbie back outside with Bessie on the walkway.

He didn’t want Robbie to dislike him.

He really didn’t want that.

 

* * *

 

He processed his brother’s words. “You’re getting a dog?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“No,” he said. He was certain he would’ve remembered something like _that_. There was a long list of requirements to be met, this wasn’t something you did on an impulse, and then there was a four week quarantine period _after_ the poor thing was allowed into the country. “What breed is it?”

“A Golden Retriever. The kids are besides themselves. Though, right now, as things are,” he added with a sigh, “I’m glad the puppy is not coming until late spring.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Just… Exhausted. Halla stole the stickers, trying to cheat the system, and when _that_ didn’t work, she took Halli’s book and tried flushing it down the toilet out of spite. And there’s been… Meetings with her classroom teacher.”

“Hopefully you’ll sort it out, together.”

“I hope so too… I don’t want my daughter growing up to become a bully.”

Like her uncle apparently…

 

* * *

 

“You know that quiet girl that always sits in the booth closest to the exit?” Penny asked him while they tried to shut the doors to the storage for the sports equipment. Alex made a mental note to file a request to internal services to have a look at it.

With a grunt he managed to lift the heavy sliding door into its rail and hold it into place as Penny locked it. “Yes?” He knew instantly which one she meant. She was an outlier, in the sense that she was one of their most occurring regulars, but made near to no attempt to socialize, and any attempt on Penny’s and Alex’s part seemed to make her withdraw more. He’d resigned to check in on her to see that she was alright every now and then. Maybe being amongst people, or just having a place to be at, was enough for her.

“Robbie spotted what the matter was with her.”

“Robbie?”

“Uhum,” she hummed and nodded as she elaborated, “she’s wearing a hearing aid. We, well, Robbie, thinks that we should let her be. She’s in the people watching stage, he claims, that we overwhelm her.”

Of course. That made sense. If her hearing was impaired and she was alone, then this establishment could be quite daunting. “I guess that she’s deemed him safe to approach.” Robbie _was_ indeed popular with the shyer and more sedentary visitors. At the same time being a bit the same, being guarded towards the volunteers… And Alex.

“What’s going on with you two by the way?”

What indeed. He shrugged. After Bessie had taken them to her office they had been… Wary of each other. He didn’t know what Robbie had said to their superior, but HR had no investigations going on, as far as he knew.

“You’re not fighting, are you?”

“Is that what people think?” He hoped not,

She shrugged. “Depends on which kid you ask.”

Damn. _Not_ a good sign. “Guess my people skills with adults have gotten rusty, just that.”

She gave him an incredulous stare but left it at that. “Speaking of people skills. How are Stephanie and Ziggy getting along?”

“Surprisingly well. She’s a headstrong one and so is Ziggy. But, she’s been quite mature about it and brought him into the group just like we hoped.” It felt almost like they were discussing ethology. These were humans, different from adults, still learning, but people all the same.

And judging by how he, now that he was confronted to acknowledge it, was avoiding Robbie, Alex probably still had a lot to learn. Or, re-learn, his people skills _had_ gotten rusty with other adults.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not coming to Iceland this summer,” he declared.

“Yeah, mum told me. I had hoped that she was wrong.”

“I’m coming over during the autumn holidays though.” Their mother was turning seventy then, along with his own forty-one year.

“Which means that you won’t come over for Christmas, am I right?”

He did not appreciate that tone. “What’s the problem here?” He frowned, he wasn’t under _obligation_ to come _every_ summer, nor _every_ Christmas.

“She’s worried and, honestly, so am I. This sounds more like you are isolating yourself further.”

He just _knew_ what would come next.

“Have you thought of moving back? It would make things easier for yourself.”

“Not you too. Why does _everyone_ keep insisting on me moving back to Iceland?”

“Because you sound miserable over there, worse than the assisted housing job. _That_ _’s_ why.”

“It’s _my_ life. And why are you dragging up stuff from half a decade ago? It’s unfair of you to guilt me like this.” Mood turning further sour.

A pause. “No,” his brother said eventually, sounding solemn, “being _unfair_ , is you leaving on a plane looking ill, promising that you’ll have it looked up immediately, and then receiving a phone call two weeks later with your boss telling me that you’ve had a _seizure_. And not being able to do anything about it, because you’re in a _different country_. There are people back here who love and miss you,” Álfur said. “If something was to happen to you, now more than ever... All you ever talk about is work, nothing outside of it. No friends you mention of, no nothing since Pablo.”

He didn’t need to rub it in. Alex glared out over the expanse of his white flat he didn’t know what to do with now that he was the only one living in it. Pablo had taken more than the furniture with him when they had separated, but also the entire social circle, with the one exception of Elisabeth Busybody. Because they had all been through the Spaniard. And what local friendships and connections he’d had before he’d met him had been neglected beyond redemption. He hadn’t meant to, but they had just come to… Fade out. He’d been too caught up in being part of a couple, and he’d swore never to lose himself like that again.

Contacting people out of the blue after years of radio silence felt daunting.

_It wasn’t like anyone had tried to reach him either._

Bitterness crept up his throat like bile.

“Maybe, if there are so many people that care and love me, they could come over _here_ for a change. When was the last time _you_ visited? Did you grow into place?”

“Listen to yourself. Calm down, before _we_ _both_ say something stupid. Check your values and eat something if you need to.”

This wasn’t about him being cranky and needing a _snack_. “ _Kjaftæði_ ,” he spat.

“Alex, I am _not_ your  _emotional punching bag_ ,” he said too evenly, and it only infuriated him further. “If you can’t have this conversation without throwing a fit-”

How _dare_ he? And he snapped, “I’m not one of your kids you can put in time out!”

The other end of the line went deathly quiet, until, “then stop acting like a child. Call me later. If you still want to fight and argue, then so be it,” and hung up, only just so beating Alex to it.

 

Alex did call him half an hour later. An apology on his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“But?”

“No buts. I’m sorry for what I said... And you’re right.”

“Did you have a snack?”

“I did. And, I’m still a little mad that you were right about _that_ as well.”

His brother snorted then said, “…I’m sorry too.”

It _had_ been a _blood sugar swing_ , but that didn’t mean that what he felt was completely untrue.

He sighed and curled up on the couch. “You know…” This was going to sound weird. “I sometimes feel like a horse.”

“Compact and gorge itself on apples?” he joked weakly.

He laughed under his breath. “No, I mean… When a horse leaves the country, it can never come back.”

“I’m pretty sure there are no laws or risks of contamination keeping you from re-entering the country.”

“No, but I feel that it’s no longer my home. I’ve _changed_. There’s nothing left for me there. Well, I mean, sure I have you all there, but it feels more like an obligation, that I’m always the one giving, and giving…”

“Go on,” he encouraged him.

“I’ve changed,” he repeated, “that’s the only way I can describe it. Not purebred Icelandic anymore. It’s nice to visit, but I _can_ _’t_ imagine myself moving back permanently. I get homesick after a couple of weeks. I miss _here_.”

“Okay. I can’t stop worrying over you, but, I’ll stop badgering you about this. Can’t make the same promise about mum and dad though.”

“That’s alright… Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

Alex could try and be the one to reach out first for a change he thought and asked Robbie the first thing that came to mind; the movie marathon he’d supervised. It had been, what, one and a half week ago?

Reality sunk in.

Had it been that long, and longer still since he’d hit him in the head? How was that even physically possible to not… Talk?

Robbie blinked and looked up from his side of the table, looking just as surprised as he himself felt.

 

Penny joined them and asked about Robbie’s choice of food, Robbie could have some allergenics, depending on preparation, he found out while listening. Heat changing the protein, some could have apples if peeled and heated.

Robbie’s negative was curt and ended any further discussion. It had been worth a shot.

Hand on heart, he was worried about Robbie’s eating habits. Sure, his options were restricted, but there were still _options_.

 

The young woman with them hummed, she was always walking as if in a happy daze the days before payday. He sneaked a glance up at Robbie. It would be his first real salary in many years, not under the table, not student loans, and no more UIF. He lowered his gaze again and listened with half an ear to his colleague’s next conversation.

 

So, Ella, as her name was revealed, had started talking to Robbie. That was a great breakthrough.

 

“I was starting to think she was completely antisocial,” penny said. 

“Do you even know what that word means?” Alex’s was drawn out of his thoughts at the serious tone in his voice.

“Introvert and unwilling to engage with others?”

“That’s asocial, or unsocial if you’d prefer. Those are the words you should use. Antisocial is linked to sociopathic behaviour.”

“Seriously?”

He joined in, he’d had his share of first-hand experience at his last workplace.

 

Leading to Penny staring at him, her brown eyes big, before her expression changed into one of indignation.

Oh, right… He’d never told her. Not that she’d asked about that. She’d asked about what he’d done in Iceland, but not where he’d worked before LazyTown specifically. And then there were the disclosures he’d signed. A poor excuse, he knew it…

“What was it like?” Robbie asked.

Where should he begin? It had been a little over five years ago, some of the disclosures had run out, but he stuck to the general. Until... He made a stupid risk. A very stupid risk. But, he had to know and watched for Robbie’s reaction.

Something passed behind Robbie’s eyes. “To keep them from the nutmeg?” he asked, picking up on what he’d meant.

So he did have experience. Either as a user, or knowing others. He had been a courier and stored drugs after all, had had connections.

Robbie explained the multitudes of drawbacks and finished with, “they must’ve been really desperate,” directed to Alex, in a voice that told what he thought of it all. He understood, the youths there had been desperate for _anything_ without consequential thinking.

Weird as it seemed, it was… Nice to be able to talk of at least some of the things he’d seen, without going into detail, with someone who knew. Even if it was from the opposite end of it.

 

Penny was mercifully shielded, and part of him hoped that it stayed that way for her, god knew he sometimes wished he hadn’t accepted that work offer. This was why Robbie was needed here, he justified.

 

“Holy shit,” she said under her breath. “How did I not know this? Wait,” looking at Robbie, “how do _you_ know this?”

Robbie froze up, and, Jesus, that was naked _fear_ in his eyes. Robbie did _not_ want any of his past to be known. Hell, Alex wasn’t supposed to be aware of any of it, and yet he’d brought up the subject!

“It’s common knowledge,” he intercepted the question. “Check google and it’s the first thing that comes up.”

As Penny took out her phone Robbie ate his food, that now must’ve gone cold, pointedly not looking at anything but down at his plate and his drink.

She found that he was right and soon thereafter left the two of them in silence.

He was astonished that Robbie started talking again, “so, uh, you were a warden of sorts or…?”

“Rehabilitation assistant.” Trained in Iceland, after his knee had gone to hell. _And then some_ at the assisted housing where talking simply did not work and everyone, the staff, _and_ the youths, were at their wits end.

“Oh.”

“It’s very different from working here.” To say the least. Here, he didn’t need to worry about a young adult with withdrawal syndrome trying to come at the staff with the first best object. He rather not talk about that, and changed the subject back to their current work and about Ella. And was pleasantly surprised to hear that Robbie had paid attention to her needs, textbook as they may seem.

Kids took on favourites and it looked like Robbie had gotten his first one. It was hard not to get attached in turn, and he began talking about Jives as an example. He must be sixteen now. Alex hadn’t seen him since… End of October? It put a bit of a damper on his mood and the memory. Jives had been a quiet shy kid in the beginning, and having a hard time socializing, partly because of his mother who just never seemed to kick her addiction of smoking to the curb and made the poor kids clothes stink. He was worried about the effects of years of second hand smoking could have on the now gangly teen. It was not fair that children would have to deal with consequences of their parents’ actions. He finished, “… It’s normal though, they find new hobbies and friends as they get older.”

Robbie said, in that dry humour of his, “if she too becomes a shrieking hooligan like the rest of them, I’m holding you responsible.”

That seemed very unlikely, but anything could happen.

 

As, for example; Robbie having a reaction to something in his food shortly after he’d left him.

They’d seen him go into the men’s changing room at a worrying speed and they went to see what the matter was.

 

He found one of their volunteers pacing the corridor outside the locker room in an agitated state. “He has the flu, he says he doesn’t, but he’s vomiting.” Confirming Alex’s fear. “My clothes are in there!”

“He’s not contagious, he’s eaten something he can’t stomach,” he tried to calm the man down, so he could get past him. To little avail, not without holding him down physically. Sharing a look with Penny who’d come as well, she took over so that Alex could pass by and look up on Robbie.

Best case scenario, his stomach wanted to expel the protein that had caused the reaction and that would be that. Worst case… Anaphylaxis.

 

He found him in a sitting position and resting his head against the tiled wall in the small space of the toilet. And judging by the sound of the water canister refilling, already flushed down the expelled food.

Poor guy. He soaked and got another handful of tissue for him to help wipe his face and get a better look at him. Mascara smudged under his eyes, and a red flush, _a rash_ , had already started to blossom around his mouth. No problem breathing though, but it was too early to say.

“My body has it out for me,” he complained, sounding exhausted and not all there.

He could more than well understand that.

Robbie winced and added, “it sucks.”

No kidding. He hadn’t told Robbie about his own condition and how his own immune system had gotten it all fundamentally wrong. And he was just about to tell him. “Yeah, I get that…”

He heard Penny yelp in warning and for the door to the changing room to open again.

It was with mixed feelings on his part that the volunteer returned, cutting off his speech. As much as Robbie deserved to know, Alex didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Didn’t want another one to look at him and draw conclusions on what he’d done to get diabetes at this stage in life, or pity. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Penny or Bessie did that for him anyway, unless they already had.

It would be a nice thought; if Robbie knew, but just didn’t give a damn.

 

* * *

 

It was arguable if he was projecting his own issues with finding a diet and schedule that held him balanced. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong. If he’d been lenient towards routines before, then that had nothing on how he’d sectioned up his everyday life now. He tried to adjust his exercise that it was starting to feel less like the source of joy it normally was and more like a chore now, and what he ate, adjust the dosage of insulin, had an idea of what foods and what times of the day, and night, his sugar would rise or dip. But, it didn’t seem to have any effect, his blood sugar was still fluctuating.

His phone was set to remind him to check regularly, and he’d increased the intervals of lately. It was set to the same jingle as his regular calls and anyone hearing it was none the wiser, just thinking that he was bombarded by telemarketers. The fingertips of his left hand were perpetually sore from needle pricks, but he’d rather have that, than accidentally snap at any of the kids. That was out of the question.

And keeping a distance was for the best, especially in regard of Robbie, he told himself. Not wanting to cause another reason for the man to think that he was actively doing him harm. So far, whenever a dip had started to creep on he’d learnt to keep his head cool and try and go somewhere else to deal with it, and get something into his system.

He was probably the only one purchasing fruit from the kiosk. 

However, sometimes, he couldn’t help butting in when Robbie ate nothing but white bread with cheese.

Robbie’s portion sizes had increased after they’d gotten paid. He’d started to fill out his clothes now, and yes, he did find his eyes resting on him more often than not. Looking didn’t hurt anyone. Looking was _safe_.

But, his nutrition intake hadn’t increased, and his overall health didn’t seem to have improved much. He was sure Robbie had vitamin deficiency. But trying to coax him into exploring better dishes and ingredients to improve his health for the long run seemed to fall on deaf ears and it was maddening.

It was childish. Robbie was being childish. Refusing to eat vegetables on principle was something Álfur’s kids did! And they were seven!

Robbie was going on _thirty!_

 

The man having yet another minor cold was further proof that he wasn’t taking care of himself… Maybe he was projecting…

Robbie taking the offered mug of honeyed water with ginger was a small victory in itself.

 

Of course, then Robbie had brought in a fish finger sandwich with mayonnaise the next day and all but openly gloated at Alex’s expression of alarm. That had to be the most nutritional, yet at the same time most distressing meal he’d seen him eat.

 

* * *

 

Robbie hadn’t outright vocalised that he was gay. And why should he? Alex hadn’t done so either.

Besides, LazyTown was supposed to be for _everyone_ on their own terms. The man could just as well be challenging set norms.

…He should tell him that he was gay, he just had to find a way to bring it up casually first.

‘ _Hey, I noticed that you might be gay. I_ _’m gay too._ ’

Yeah, no.

 

* * *

 

He hated the kiosk. He’d rather do paperwork. But, he couldn’t shirk away from this part of his work completely. Robbie didn’t mind being in it though, for what he let on anyway. He’d been there often enough that he’d put his own touch to it. Alex glared at the jar of lollipops the man had sat up opposite of his own with fruits. Now wasn’t that an interesting piece of presentation of the two of them.

Especially since everyone went for the lollipops and the rest of the overpriced sweets they had to sell to keep output numbers in their favour. He didn’t know as much about the management of public administration as Bessie, but judging by her lament of, ‘ _they can_ _’t measure public services like this. If the output is too low, and it_ _’s always the wrong output they measure, instead of trying to figure out what_ _’s wrong and facilitate it, they see it as a waste and they cut costs. And down the negative spiral we go!_ ’ it wasn’t that good. She might’ve been inebriated as well during that rant. But, he took her word for it, wondering who these ‘ _they’_ were, since the mayor was her living apart partner.

He poked one of the wrapped lollies and sighed. One of Ziggy’s favourite treats.

And one of Robbie’s, shortly after cake apparently, too.

Again with the _safe_ looks he’d given him. On his breaks, Robbie could often be seen entertaining himself with a comic book and suckling on a lollipop. Looking might be safe. What went through his head was most definitely _not_.

 

“Hey, Sportayawn! Can you help me with this fooseball table?! Penny keeps asking weird questions!”

Another new version of Sportacus? Did he make them up on the spot, or did he prepare them beforehand? Not that he was complaining. Far from it. Stephanie on the other hand still believed that they were from a place of malice. _That_ was the source of why some of the kids thought that the men were at odds with each other. It was kind of funny, despite becoming a problem. He’d tried to set her straight, but he should warn Robbie in case the girl were to orchestrate a confrontation of sorts. He looked up to spot his colleagues having started to move said fooseball table. They didn’t seem to have gotten far however. Robbie looked upset and refused to look at Alex. What now?

 

They only _nearly_ scuffed the table twice before they had it secured at its new location by the billiard tables. This should be the internal services job but as of lately it seemed more efficient to do these small changes themselves.

 

He didn’t want to return to his earlier task and the other man didn’t seem to be in any greater hurry either. Robbie deflected his question what Penny had bothered him about. Surely it was more than euphuisms, unless they were of the sexual kind and… Yeah that had to be it. But it was worth getting to talk and listen to Robbie go on about linguistics, and confirmed Alex’s hunch of how Robbie must’ve felt when he got his diagnosis for his dyslexia.

As well the chance to express that _no_ he did not mind the different versions of Sportacus, but should be ready if the younger children came.

With a wink, that he should’ve thought better of, he pushed away from the billiard table he’d been leaning against, to return to the front of the building.

And the damn kiosk.

 

Penny kept giving him funny looks and he made a mental note to ask her what she’d bothered Robbie about.

Clearly, it involved he himself in some way.

 

Later, Robbie asked about the origin of the nickname _Sportacus_ as they got ready to head their separate ways, and Alex pulled out the old ratty hoodie he’d kept for nearly a decade now. And explained how in the past five, soon to be six, years he’d been at LazyTown the children had called him by it, even the newer ones that hadn’t even seen the hoodie yet. 

“Like a cultural memory,” Robbie said absentmindedly and rubbed the worn grey material between his thumb and pads of his fingers.

That made sense, he thought, as he continued rambling about its origins and senseless attachment to it.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tease Robbie that he could try it on if he wanted. Seeing as how transfixed he was by it. But, the words died in his throat when he tried to visualise how it’d look on his frame. Probably too loose over the shoulders and short in the sleeves. A bit off, but endearing, like the strange man himself.

 

* * *

 

For the sake of discretion he didn’t speak of the visitors by their names, nor nicknames.

However, his brother had already met Jives in person when he’d come over for a visit a few years back. “Jives popped in earlier this week.” The teen was back. It was with sheer joy he’d seen him again after the long absence. “It seems like he’s going to come in more often from now on.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah.”

“…I hear a but in there.”

Álfur was too perceptive sometimes. He worried his lower lip and said after a beat, “I think he’s taken up smoking in his absence.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, no it’s not, but he’s sixteen and there’s not much I can do about it outside of the establishment.”

The kid had _reeked_ when he’d hugged him. Nor did he like how… Spaced out he’d looked. The teen had claimed that he was exhausted, overtired from the strain of pulling an all-nighter for a test. Cramming in information did you no good if you could barely stand up straight. And if the teen was looking for a way to ease the stress, cigarettes were _not_ the answer. There was a niggling feeling he couldn’t quite shake in the back of his mind as well, that there was something else being off.

Whatever it was, it had appeared to have been an isolated incident. Jives had turned up the next day looking far better than the previous one and they had been able to catch up on what the kid had been up to since he’d last visited the youth centre. And a griping over that it was embarrassing that Alex still wore the blue cap. To be fair, _everything_ was embarrassing when you were that age. And in his defence, it was comfy, and it kept his hair out of his eyes. And, he was sentimental like that. Almost as he could not get rid of the old hoodie.

Jives had a great deal of questions about Robbie, seeing as he was the newest addition to the staff and, admittedly, Alex kind of had hefted Jives over on him when there had been a commotion in the indoor court.

Given how Robbie seemed popular with the sedentary visitors, he’d thought that Jives and Robbie should get along better, but Jives seemed almost wary of Robbie, and the man so in turn.

And not just towards Jives…

Had something happened? As far as Alex could recount he’d kept himself in check.

Robbie seemed _off_ as of lately. It could very well be because of pollen season coming into full swing. Based on Robbie’s address and commute he knew he lived out in a rural area. He wondered how he dealt with his pollen allergies out where he was surrounded by greenery.

 

“Hello? You still there?”

“Oh, sorry. Got lost in thought there for a moment.” He thumbed the fading bruise on his abdomen where he’d accidentally punctured a capillary blood vessel. “I remembered that I need to hand in a bag of used needles to the pharmacy on Monday.”

 

* * *

 

This was _not_ how he’d wanted to find out if he still had his speed and agility intact after twelve years of retirement from gymnastics.

Not in the slightest.

Pixel had brought a small drone into the building and Stingy in another of his bouts of possessiveness had been trying to wrench the controller out of its owner’s hands, causing a ruckus. He had been on his way towards the group of children playing with the remote controlled drone and to tell them to take it with them outside on the field, when it had gotten entangled in the suspension of the disco ball high up in the ceiling and the _lone_ sling hook had popped open.

His gaze had fallen to see a boy standing straight under it.

 

For the next following seconds his brain had been merely an unwitting passenger as his body had on its own accord moved him across the room and he’d taken the child out of harms way.

 

An explosion of broken glass rained over his back and then he snapped out of it to see big stunned eyes staring straight up at him, mirroring his own shock and he turned to see what was left of the ball behind them and the distance he’d taken them.

 

Robbie came running and crouched down by his side and said something. He blinked. What? Blood was thundering in his ears.

Still not completely there all together, yet he rose to see if the boy had come to any harm before he checked that he hadn’t cut himself, then looked up to where the ball had come loose.

Where. The hell. Was the secondary security wire?!

“Wow! How did you do that?!” Trixie cried out, accompanied by Stephanie and Ziggy once the initial shock of what they’d caused had worn off. Their small faces in awe at the feat that probably would have made his old coach spit a long series of foul words.

“No, don’t come over here, there’s broken glass on the ground,” Robbie said and ushered them back and away towards Penny with a group of volunteers that had been attracted by the crash. Looking over at Alex he had the same look of awe as the children.

 

* * *

 

The meeting was a necessary evil, but they needed to go through what had transpired. It had been dangerous, and what was worse, it could’ve been easily prevented. That disco ball should’ve been removed the day after they’d had that disco, but somehow it had still been there, _and_ not secured according to safety regulations. Somewhere information must’ve gone astray, or breach in protocol and routine, _something!_  Their work as youth recreational leaders entailed many aspects, but breathing down the neck of internal services shouldn’t be part of it, technically that was Bessie’s job, and she seemed to be taking it as hard as Alex was.

There were other problems brewing on the horizon as well, Bessie had made him privy that all was not well at the school across from their establishment and there was a palpable worry that it could spread to them. Little had trickled in and Robbie who seemed to operate on the premise of let teens be teens as long as they’re not too loud or bother you had had to step in, using the advantage of his height and the depth his voice could reach to set them straight. Reminding Alex of the flash of intimidation he’d felt when they first had been introduced.

He spared a glance over at Robbie who was silently sitting by as Bessie informed them that there was the possibility of a group of perpetrators preying on the pupils there. If there were traces of recognition Robbie did not show it, nor did he claim to have seen anything there the hours he passed through, which had to mean that the unauthorized persons that loitered there only stayed during school hours. Alex could hold his own, but he didn’t fancy the idea of standing alone by the bus stop there in the dark evening, less so that Robbie had to do it every day after their working hours.

The thought hit him that Robbie hadn’t been through the anti-drug learning course on how to handle situations if a visitor came in under the influence, hopefully it wouldn’t come to it anytime soon, but being prepared was a must, he voiced some of it and Bessie agreed.

 

He was not the only one to have caught on Penny’s excessive smiling for the seriousness of the meeting and the moment Bessie removed herself Robbie asked what had her smiling that much.

Another splurge of shopping was what she’d done and she’d had her teeth bleached.

There had not been anything wrong with her teeth, frankly, if Robbie hadn’t pointed it out, Alex would not have noticed it himself. He asked how much she’d spent this time.

“One hundred,” she said in defiance, adding, “it was on discount,” as to justify the purchase.

He frowned, discount or not, that had to be around… Twelve thousand _kr_ _ónur_.

Sometimes he was worried that she was trying to fill some void within herself with all the shopping she did. Her boyfriend was well off and showered her in gifts and other tokens of affection. Material things were not something she was in shortage of. But, it still wasn’t enough. Or, maybe it was too much. Her boyfriend appeared to have a possessive streak. Another worrying sign.

 

Somehow it turned into a discussion about looks and plastic surgery.

He didn’t like where this was heading. And he knew he was a hypocrite in ways. He’d been very vain about his looks in his youth, had showered in the praise of his physique when he still was an active athlete and years after that, because he loved being physically active, chasing the endorphins his body released. Trying to stay fit and active for the sake of his wellbeing and looks. Yes, he was still vain he supposed, a little.

Though, you could do everything right. Eat right, exercise right. Sometimes, the cards were just not in your favour, be it on the outside… Or the inside.

 

Penny drove her point home and added, in jest, another jab at Alex’s height and estimation of how much it would cost to _break his legs_ in order to get taller. Information he did not need. Did people really do that to themselves?

Penny’s car, his own flat and Robbie’s... That wasn’t fair, now was it? Feeling embarrassed on the other man’s part, he was about to tell Penny to stop.

That feeling was quickly replaced by astonishment when Robbie admitted to owning agricultural buildings. He was a landowner! He’d figured that he’d used the insurance outcome to purchase something he could afford, and now confirmed by the man himself that he had. But… _Eight_ _hectares?!_ From an industrial perspective it was maybe not much to brag about, but as a private individual it was a lot to own and tend to. How had he afforded that? Honestly, he was only a step above Penny in giving into the desire of bombarding Robbie with questions.

Alex might’ve succumbed to do so, had not Bessie intervened to announce that he and Robbie could go fetch the posters. Which was more for education rather than warning off, and scoffed at by most of the visitors, but it was worth trying. To make a statement of sorts.

 

He was still in thought over Robbie’s admission of owning that much land, however not deep in thought enough to not notice the dirty look Robbie sent the receptionist’s way. He didn’t have Bessie’s sense for gossip fodder, but even he could tell that there was something there and looked over towards the front desk to see how the man behind the desk was unabashedly staring back.

A funny, and unbidden, feeling of possessiveness over his colleague passed through him at the stare.

Definitely something going on there.

 

Their earlier topic about physical appearance seemed to still linger in Robbie’s mind when they’d gotten outside to load the car, and Alex found himself on a tirade of questions about steroids, given that he was a frequent visitor to the local gym.

There was nothing wrong with how Robbie looked. Quite the opposite, he was very attractive, to Alex anyway. Witty, and with a peculiar quirkiness to him. He was glad to see that Robbie had a fire in him, and that was probably what drew _him_ in in turn. Even if nothing would come of it.

If Robbie wanted to get in better shape, then that was all good, Alex could not force someone to exercise but he could encourage it. However, whatever train of thought Robbie was on about illegal and _dangerous_ means of cutting corners needed to be stopped in its tracks.

 

* * *

 

A slow Monday evening, nothing unusual about that, and it gave them time to check up on the equipment around the establishment. Alex had just passed through the tech lab and was on his way to the music room. Except it was occupied by someone already. Someone who was singing inside, and he crept closer to listen by the closed door. He recognised the baritone voice.

Was that… Was that Robbie?

He knew that Robbie had a voice, had heard him hum under his breath occasionally, but outright singing was something entirely new.

Alex sometimes came into the music room to play the guitar or drums, music was something that he’d been introduced to at a young age and encouraged to pick up an instrument in school back in Iceland as many other children there were, but singing had never been something he’d been gifted with, at best his singing voice had been described as ‘ _managing to hit the notes whilst shouting_ ’. This however…

It was beautiful.

He lingered outside to listen, until the singing stopped, and he removed himself, before Robbie could come out and realise that Alex had been eavesdropping, wanting to let the man maintain the illusion of privacy.

 

* * *

 

He knew that it came out of a place of good intentions, he’d shook her up quite badly back in January and he still felt guilty over that.

“You’re turning into a stubborn old man,” Penny huffed.

“I’m not _that_ old,” he deflected with a laugh and walked over to the kitchenette to get his lunch box.

“So you don’t deny being stubborn.”

He took a deep breath and tried to not raise to the bait. She’d managed to corner him as he felt his afternoon dip come on. He usually dealt with it by having his break around six to eat the other half of his lunch. Part of him was starting to suspect that she’d done so on purpose, she’d had ample of time out on the field, though at the same time glad that she’d had the tact to try where they were secluded.

“God,” she accused when he didn’t engage her, unbeknownst to her he had lots of practice in that, “you’re just like my boyfriend when he’s being unreasonable.”

“And how do you deal with that?” he said, trying to redirect the subject and tucked into the contents of the container.

“Unclasp my bra usually,” Alex nearly choked on a cherry tomato, but she wasn’t fazed and continued, “but that’s not going to work here, and you’re not even interested in women, are you?”

“No,” he admitted. “No, I’m not.”

The young woman hummed and nodded, then said, getting back to the original argument, “I wish you would just get the damn pump.”

“Penny, a pump is not for me and it is as well very expensive. I have it under control.” He might have said that last part more forcefully than he’d meant to.

She made a displeased noise in the back of her throat but thankfully let it be, until the next time.

 

* * *

 

The day had been as a nightmare and gone in a feverish haze, yet every wretched details of the worst highlights he wished to block out were crystal clear.

He’d come back in from supervising outside to spot Jives with a stranger he didn’t like the looks of and Robbie in turn looking like he was on the brink of… Something.

Eyes frantic, Robbie leaned over the counter and hissed that the group of outsiders they’d been briefed about were _there_.

As if on cue there was a loud crash coming from the visitor’s restrooms along with Jives being pulled out of his seat to run out the front with the stranger he’d been with.

 

It all went to hell after that.

 

He’d hoped that he would never have to hold someone down like that again. The young adult had been thrashing under him, spitting words of abuse, and he’d tightened his grip as the pool of cold water grew while they had waited for the police to arrive.

What was worse, and that almost made him wish that he’d hurt the vandal, was seeing just what the perpetrator had been up to inside the restroom.

The blatant hatred, the slurs, they… It _hurt_. Then he’d seen the crude drawing of Robbie inside, and he’d felt himself shut down. God, _Robbie_.

And Jives had been a part of it.

That Alex’s bike had been trashed after they’d failed to steal it only added insult to injury.

He thought he’d known the boy. He’d been wrong. Or more like, he’d known that something was amiss, but chose not to see what was going on.

The stench of cigarettes cloaking something more pungent, the shifty demeanour and lofty answers to what he’d been up to since autumn and how school was.

 

And Robbie had outright known.

And yet not said anything! Had been covering for him this whole time!

 

Something vile had come over him at the revelation. And it had grown with that, after months, Robbie still hadn’t trusted him. Had thought so little of him that he’d believed that Alex was injecting himself with steroids. Alex was _not_ the hypocrite here. _He_ _wasn_ _’t!_

He didn’t know what Bessie had told him when she’d hired him, but it wasn’t to make him a mascot, not because how he presented himself or his sexuality anyway.

No, if anything, he was a mascot for _other_ things.

Robbie wanted to know on what merits they’d hired him? Why Alex didn’t like him? He’d tell him.

The words were out before he could think better of it, far calmer than he thought himself capable of that moment. He knew where it hurt, had seen how Robbie had guarded his past in conversations, and Alex went for blood.

And it had worked.

Far too well.

 

The naked fear, the heart wrenching hurt on the stark white face he saw before him as whatever demon had sunk its claws into him let go, to let him come back to his senses…

 

“Robbie…” his own voice came out. Too little, too late.

 

Now? Now he was alone in his flat. Robbie having fled and slammed the door behind him some time ago to disappear into the downpour that was still raging outside.

His alarm went off and he wanted to scream. Instead, he found himself cleaning his hands.

‘ _Breathe,_ ’ he told himself, ‘ _just breathe_ _’_ , as he pricked his finger. A tremor ran through him and he removed the lancet with a jerk, resulting with droplets of red to splatter on white. He swore and peeled off his shirt, making the damage worse by putting his bloody hand on it, going into the bathroom to soak it in cold water, pointedly ignoring his reflection in the washing mirror above the basin. Yet, in the end, he did the mistake to look directly at himself in it. The levee broke and he grit his teeth together.

 

What had he done?

 

* * *

 

Oppressor…

 _Bully_.

_Hrekkjusvín._

 

Maybe he should take out sick leave after all, he thought. Or better yet, quit all together. There weren’t much to pack that weren’t already in boxes, he could rent out the condo and move back to Iceland. Or sell it and move permanently. Why had he gotten that dual citizenship?

 

He laid on the bed, having just come back from the kitchen area to check his blood sugar, administered his next dosage and eaten, because he had to, even if it tasted like sawdust in his mouth and he was the furthest from hungry. “It’s not a good time right now, could you call later?” his voice came out sounding hoarse as he answered the phone call from his brother.

“Alex, there are three missed calls from you last night.”

Those had only been the ones that gone through before he’d terminated them. Yes, he had called his brother, then hung up seconds after, then done so all over again. Wanting to talk to _someone,_ but knowing that it was in the middle of the night where his brother was as much as it was here. Had even looked up Robbie’s number but thankfully refrained from typing the digits he’d found. Because what was there to say? The pale distraught face flashed before his eyes. An irrational sleep deprived part of him said, ‘ _if there even would be someone to pick up on the other end_.’ He fought it back whence it’d come from.

He must’ve been silent for too long.

“Alex? Is everything okay?”

“No. No, it’s not. I… I screwed up.” He sat up to shuffle up with his back against the headboard. To hell with disclosures and discretion. “There was an incident at work yesterday. Vandalism and hate speech.”

His brother swore.

 

He gave him the rundown of what had transpired.

And of what he’d done.

 

“Alex… What the hell?” He could _hear_ the awed expression on his face.

“I know,” he croaked.

The other man on the line spoke up again, “what are you going to do?”

“I need to talk to him, I thought of calling him, but…”

“Yeah. Don’t do that,” he agreed. “ _Gu_ _ð minn_ ,” a sigh, “you need to apologise, but wait until it’s Monday so you can do it in person.”

He hummed, that was probably for the best.

There was a long silence between them.

Until his brother spoke again. Sounding dejected in a low voice, “I think you need to see someone as well. You can’t keep this up. _I_ can’t keep this up.”

As to why he’d changed his mind and terminated the calls last night the same second the dial tone came on. Again and again. “I know. I’m sorry.” Because this wasn’t fair on his brother.

“ _Please_ , take care.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

 

What he _did_ know, was that he was going to explain himself and apologise when he met Robbie in person on Monday.

 

‘ _If Robbie would turn up for work on Monday that was,_ ’ that ugly irrational voice said again.

 

The phone trembled in his hand.

 

* * *

 

Getting dressed for work on Monday, he nearly put on the crocheted cap and stopped himself, hands halfway up in front of him, transfixed by the item.

He stuffed it into the armoire in the entrance. He couldn’t bear to look at it, not this soon after.

 

Despite irrational fears that had plagued him, Robbie did turn up for work. There were no words to describe how relieved he was to see him back and well. Beautiful compared to how Alex himself looked and presented himself. He’d been a wreck while waiting, for the hours to slowly creep by, for Monday to come, and barely slept at all that night. Thinking of what he should say, what he should do to make things right between them.

The relief was however blown away when he met Robbie’s eyes.

It wasn’t anger, or distaste, as much as the lack of _anything_ in them, that had him reeling when he looked into them. As if Alex was part of the furnishing. And that was the only glance he spared his way, ignoring his presence all together during their staff meeting and out the door to go downstairs when they were done.

“Alex, how are you-” Bessie started up.

“Sorry, I can’t talk right now, there’s something I need to do first,” he said and made pursuit, out the door and taking the stairs down two at a time.

 

He found him outside the vandalised handicap toilet, staring at the plastic sheet that had been put up, the side of his face within view wearing a stony expression. As he closed in the man said, “you can’t get rid of me. I’m staying,” and turned to start walking away from him.

‘ _No, no, no!_ ’

“Robbie, wait, _please_ ,” he begged, just so avoiding taking hold of him. He still believed that he wanted him gone, he didn’t blame him. Not after how he’d treated him.

 

Robbie finally looked at him again and though they were cold, they weren’t entirely indifferent this time.

 

He’d had a prepared speech, yet the moment he’d opened his mouth all that came out was a jumbled mess that confused even he himself, and somewhere in the middle Robbie had to cut him off to have him try to make sense.

His blood sugar had only been a small part of the problem, his distance, both physical and emotional, had played a major part in it. If he’d been open and not let his own self-inflicted stigma and pride get the better of him, and told Robbie about his condition and what it entailed from the very start, then this disaster could’ve been avoided. He wanted to be true with him as best he could. To be an open book. He wanted to be better, Robbie deserved that, and he meant it as he voiced whatever his rambling brain and translation could.

And, wonder of wonders, Robbie was still upset, but he was willing to start over. Give Alex a second chance to not screw it up again.

He’d stretched his hand out, but saw Robbie recoil and remember the very first botch up he’d done when they’d first met.

And he knew he was asking for more than he deserved that moment, but, “hug?” Robbie could always scoff and decline.

But, he didn’t.

His tall slim frame was comforting on a fundamental level against his own shorter one, feeling the pent up anxiety of weeks melt off and he buried his head against the other man’s shoulder, holding on longer than warranted for. “Thank you.”

 

Trying to be open on his own accord, he’d told Robbie that he was gay. Who’d gone slack-jawed at the information, more so than when he’d told him of his past as a gymnast, Robbie really didn’t know much about him and with that cheerleader statement hitting a bit too close for comfort, and was dead silent until he’d let out a soft, “ _oh_.”

 

* * *

 

The phone call had been a mistake. Not because of shared history, and the things said and done. But, because how hot blooded the man was.

“-we do not _criminalise_ red meat and sweets. Food is an expression of _culture_ and should be _pleasurable!_ Food should _not_ be a source of guilt! Food has _value to enjoy and socialise_ , otherwise you’re just filling yourself with _nutrients_ - _not food!_ ”

Alex had to put away the phone on speaker and let Pablo get it out of his system. If there was one thing he’d learnt from their time together, it was that there was no point in trying disputing or attempting to cut it short.

When the Spaniard seemed, well, not done, but somewhat mollified, he saw an opening in the tirade and said, “I’m not _dieting_.” Not in that sense anyway that Pablo had interpreted his request. If anything, he was trying to prevent weight loss. “I just wanted your opinion on a few recipes.”

“Why? _Mi amado amigo_ , don’t you have the books and the knowledge yourself already?”

 _Amado amigo_ … One year ago he’d used to call him _mi querido_. Right up until the very moment he’d sat him down and told him that they wanted different things in life. That their _passions_ in life had shifted.

“I do.” Maybe not the books Pablo had written himself. Those were either up in storage or at a goodwill.

“Then why ask _me?_ ”

“I’m… I got diabetes.” He braced himself.

 

That was another fifteen minutes of yelling.

 

* * *

 

His small change in diet had the desired effect. He didn’t have to check his values at the mad frequency that he’d had, and though the blood sugar swings were not gone, and they probably never would be, it was manageable now and with _everyone_ at their small office knowing -it had improved tremendously.

He was starting to feel like his normal self again.

It wasn’t perfect though, there were still the nocturnal hypos. He had his alarm set for the time of night he knew his values would dip to check on it. And for when he got up at five, trying to beat the dawn effect of high values. It made his mornings drowsy, but he was used to that since long ago and could soon enough shake off the effects to go on with his life. Workout or go for a run outside now that it was warmer and his knee not as testy, and he had energy to continue throughout the day at work. Fresh spring air in his lungs, the burn in his muscles and the feeling of joy as strength returned to him.

Not perfect, but close enough to it.

He wanted to be better, for Robbie, for the people around him.

The man was still on edge around him, and he could understand why. Alex wanted to prove that the person Robbie had first met wasn’t who Alex was.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sporty,” Penny said and plopped down in the chair next to him as he dealt with one of the few emails he had to task himself with nowadays, “can I ask you something?”

He sent the request to the internal services, another small inconvenient thing that had gone unattended to and no one present to ask to take a look at it, and took off his glasses to turn to her, grinning and said, “yes, sure.”

“Do you think Robbie is hot?”

He nearly broke the glasses I half.

 

* * *

 

A sense of guilt and responsibility had prompted him into agreeing to take Robbie to the _Do Re Mi!_ pub event, reasoning that Robbie could meet some new people from the different departments of the local government. Who knew, maybe he needed it himself too. He could have fun without drinking, as Penny had pointed out.

So, here he was, getting ready before Robbie arrived.

His moustache was the result of a bet between his brother and him of growing facial hair whichever outrageous way they wanted long ago and then the both of them had just… Stuck with it. Because why not? He could no longer imagine his face bare without it and he was allowed some quirks of his own.

He’d been trimming his moustache, finding microscopic imperfections the longer he had scrutinized himself in the mirror, when the doorbell rang accompanied by an insistent rapping on the door, and he’d just so avoided cutting off a good centimetre as he jolted in surprise. Had Alex been in there that long? He still hadn’t cleaned up parts of the flat and retrieved the extra linens for Robbie to use. Wrangling his jeans on he exited out of the bathroom, not wanting to greet whoever was outside the condo in nothing but his underwear, and somewhat shocked by the drop in temperature and humidity.

Finding Robbie waiting outside punched the air out of his lungs.

He… He looked _good_.

The man had shown to have a penchant for purples and reds, as well as the only one he knew that could pull off orange with his fair complexion, but always smartly dressed despite having to ‘ _dress-down_ ’ for work. But, this time he’d outdone himself and Alex knew he was staring. The striped waistcoat fit over his chest and fastened up nicely around his waist, accentuating the shoulder to waist ratio he did have hiding under dark turtlenecks and sweaters.

And his hair and makeup…

He didn’t know what Robbie had done, more than colour and mascara but whatever it was, it was drawing all attention to his eyes and made Alex question if they weren’t blue after all.

Look but don’t touch. Looking was _safe_.

When he bent over to remove his dress shoes and Alex saw the curve of his backside as he’d read the irritated messages he’d missed -it wasn’t far from the truth to claim that he’d _fled_ into his bedroom.

And was met by the disarray in the room. Oh no.

Not to speak of the disaster in the home office he hadn’t dealt with. Home office, a fancy word for a room he didn’t know what to do with other than using it as a dumping zone after he’d run out of space in the storage unit.

At least Robbie found hilarity at the sight of the side room, while Alex ran around putting everything away before he decided to come looking in there as well, putting on the first best shirt he’d found. Another white T-shirt, it was hard finding anything that fit without alterations and he’d bought the basic wear in bulk for work when he’d found it practical and reasonable enough for his frame. It wasn’t like he had reason to dress up that often, in fact, this was the first time he’d gone out in months that warranted something fancier than, how did that English saying go? _Spick-and span?_ He’d have to ask Robbie where that originated from.

Robbie however took one look, pursed his mouth and made him turn back into the bedroom, barely over the threshold and embarrassed over having picked the dirty shirt for a semi-formal outing.

 

He didn’t need that reminder of his age, but he’d gladly accept the help of picking out something when he grew frustrated over his limited options.

 

The tan leather jacket was left from a visit Álfur had made ages ago, and he wasn’t even sure it fit his brother anymore. It restricted his movements over his shoulders and arms, and he’d had to button down the crisp dress shirt underneath just to make sure he didn’t accidentally rip something, or pop a button, but they were already running late as it was and stressed enough that he almost forgot to take his insulin before they ventured outside. 

At least Robbie though he looked okay.

 

* * *

 

Alex didn’t drink, that didn’t mean that he opposed to others doing so, but there was a certain atmosphere of _desperation_ in the _Do Re Mi!_ , that the crowd there were trying to squeeze out every drop of the outing before they had to go back to their regular life, consequences be damned.

Someone copped a feel in passing and he’d had it with this. “Excuse me,” he said and removed himself to get some fresh air and respite.

 

Leaning on his elbows on the waist high railing edging the fenced in outdoor area, he was trying to centre himself and work through the discomfort the sexual harassment had caused, letting the evening air cool his overheated skin and chill through the dress shirt.

This was one of the reasons he didn’t go to the _Do Re Mi!_ events. The disinhibition displayed and thrust upon him. Literally.

He was starting to feel the beginning of a dull headache and rubbed his brow. He was split between the desire to leave, and the unwillingness to go so soon after they had gotten there. It wouldn’t take long until the tables would be cleared out and the dance floor to open. That could be fun, he told himself. Dancing was fun, and he was here with friends… And Nenni.

And with the risk of further harassment that might take place.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out there when he heard a familiar female voice nearby. “He did _not!?_ ” Bessie said in conversation with another older woman in red and curled up locks of blonde that were too intense to be natural for her age. “Stína, that is _outrageous!_ ”

His superior was out getting the latest of the grapevine it would seem.

Along with a package of cigarettes she was sharing with the other woman. Bessie had reached the social smoker stage, a drunken vice of hers.

“I _know_ ,” the woman clucked. “I swear, after they hit their forties it’s like men are single for a good reason. He thought he was being _so_ discreet.”

“Old horndog,” Bessie scoffed, “no shame in his body,” and took another drag of the cigarette, then spotted him and waved him over to introduce him to the woman, an old acquaintance, and by the looks of it, fellow gossiper.

“You’re not supposed to smoke,” he reminded her. Not that she would listen, no amount of coercion could take the disgusting nicotine away from her once she’d lit the first cigarette, try as he might, and taking into account that she had asked him personally to stop her many times before.

“A _small_ self-indulgence,” she said, her voice leaving no room for arguing, but thankfully put the cigarette away for the time being to change it out for her glass of rosé. She scrutinised him and added, “you look pale, are you alright?”

The other woman eyed the interaction with a keen expression on her face, probably sensing gossip fodder of her own.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“That’s what you _always_ say,” she retorted drily.

He really didn’t want to have this conversation now, not in front of strangers. “I was heading back inside. Do you know where the others are?”

“I think they’re still by the bar.”

“Thanks.” With a nod and smile toward her company he said goodbye and turned to go find the others.

He didn’t know what took place behind his back to warrant Bessie’s words, but he wished he hadn’t heard her say to the other woman, “stop that. You’re no better than that horndog going after the new assistant.”

She sputtered, “I was only looking!”

“Yes, and we all know where _that_ leads.”

Going home sounded more and more attractive.

 

He re-entered the establishment and sought out where he’d last seen Penny and Robbie, to find the man was in the bar on his own. Spirit raised that he’d found one of their company so soon amongst all these people, he advanced. Except, he wasn’t alone after all, he soon discovered as he got closer.

He was in conversation with that receptionists from Town Hall he recognised. Funny, judging by last time he’d seen him, he’d thought that they didn’t get along. Well, it seemed like Alex’s attempt to let Robbie socialise had succeeded at least. He was to join him, when he realised with a start that it was more to it, than two people standing close to hear each other over the noise of the crowd and music, when a hand came up to touch Robbie’s wrist. And he came to a halt to watch Robbie lean in further to say something.

Alex had been around, he knew what was happening instantly. The body language was all too clear that it was of the intimate kind. However, he had never seen _that_ expression on _Robbie_ _’s_ face before.

There had been something going on in Town Hall, Alex had just misjudged its nature.

 

Better leave them be. In the crowd surrounding the bar, he backed away, before he was spotted.

 

He couldn’t find Penny, he did find Milford though, temporarily free from socialising with his peers from the board. Besides Alex himself, Milford was one of the few other sober attendees and was steering sugar from one of the sugar packets into a cup of coffee he had ordered for himself as he sat down to join him by his table.

“Oh, hello there, Alex,” he said in the same jovial greeting he always did, however, looking up again, his brow creased. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Bessie’s outside smoking,” he cautioned him.

“Oh dear...”

While the man fretted, he was starting to come to terms with _things_ himself. Feelings of disappointment. _Jealousy_. Was this how Nenni felt whenever another man went near Penny? Except, Alex had no claim whatsoever on Robbie in any sense. They were colleagues, he dared to say friends, fragile and delicate as it still was after the damage of his own making. Not lovers, not anywhere close to that. He had no right to be this green eyed. If anything, he should be happy for him.

He leaned on the table. The dull ache was intensifying into a full on headache, and he pressed the knuckles of his thumbs hard between his eyes. Not a good sign by experience now. He thought he’d finally found a balance! Groaning, he tried to think back on what he’d done that could’ve caused this. He’d eaten properly, and he’d taken the correct adjusted dose before they’d left. Was it the hot shower? Going home was the best option. But, he’d have to give Robbie the code to be let in. And that meant go looking for him again when he’d just left him.

Seemed that there was no need.

Penny came tugging Robbie along, sans the receptionist that he’d been flirting with.

‘ _Good_ ,’ he thought, feeding the illicit feeling.

His lack of response had Robbie eye him in concern and ask if he was alright.

That was arguable right now. “I think I have a headache coming on,” he explained truthfully. They didn’t need him bringing them down. “Sorry, but I think I’ll head home a little earlier. I’ll give you the code to the entrance floor, so you can get inside later.” He tried to stand up and felt himself almost black out with the sense of vertigo, and two pairs of hands supporting him back into the chair. Penny said his name in alarm, but he didn’t have it in him to speak, all he could do was shake his head, instantly regretting the motion, feeling queasy.

He should’ve seen and understood the signs for what they were, now he was sucking on a sugar cube after nearly fainting, again, and Robbie had to run to get him something from the bar.

 

While his colleagues retrieved their jackets and in time for Alex to get his bearings back, Bessie appeared, took one look at his state and swore, making Milford wince at the profanity.

She ducked in closer, nicotine on her breath and he wrinkled his nose. “Alex, how are you feeling? And don’t lie this time.”

“I’m feeling better now.” He did. The juice he’d been given had effectively elevated his state.

“You need rest. Maybe we should have Robbie take you home,” she said.

“That’s not necessary,” he protested. “I can take myself home.” He’d already put a damper on the evening for his company, they didn’t need to send Robbie home with him. He had only come so that Robbie could socialize and… Seduce.

Robbie and Penny came back with both of their jackets already in hand. So, the decision was already made then.

 

He had to ask about the receptionist, he couldn’t help himself. Robbie seemed far too happy to leave, considering what he’d witnessed.

Disappointment at that he’d been right about its nature and he tried to not let it show.

He’d gotten his number. But, didn’t seem to like the _tool_ , as he’d called him, all that much.

There was little comfort in that.

 

It was with a sense of triumph that he discovered that the only thing he’d done was taking the wrong bottle of insulin. In their haste to leave he must’ve misread the label. A mistake, a dangerous one, but it was an honest mistake non-the-less.

Robbie just stared at him as he explained, before he let out a low groan and hid his face in his hands.

The man was prone to eccentric responses, but... “Robbie, are you alright?”

The man remained quiet far too long for comfort, until he spoke up again, “I’m imagining the satisfaction it would bring me to stuff you into a cannon and firing it.”

He would have laughed at the odd comment, had it not been for the dark look in his usually light eyes.

 

* * *

 

He’d never been able to stand children and animals being hurt in movies, even off screen, and this one contained both, he might as well prepare something to snack on while the first one took place. Robbie noticed the discomfort and teased.

Was he afraid of dinosaurs? That would be too easy if he was.

Far easier than the feeling shooting through him at Robbie’s next question after confirming the reason.

“Have you thought of getting an insulin pump?” he heard him say from the other side of the room divider.

His heart sank. ‘ _No. Not Robbie too_.’

Penny had roped Robbie into her crusade of trying to talk him into getting the pump. Feelings of attraction for Robbie set aside, or that Penny might’ve thought that it would work on him, he would _not_ get the device and he tried to dismiss it the same way that had worked for him all the previous times.

Except, unlike his family, friends, medical professionals, the man did not take no for an answer and surprised Alex with the open display of anger and determination as he came right up to him.

And he kept pushing, finding counterpoints to his arguments with ease, hitting the core reason of the issue; his petty vain core reason.

 

The scream coming from the TV might as well have been his own echoing in his head as he tried not to give in, keep himself in check.

 

But, the man kept going, dragging up what Alex had already known all this time. He’d given up so much, and he’d have to give up more. Give up what had kept him going for years and made him happy when everything else was out of control. He’d gotten better from his injury by sheer will, but this wasn’t the same, never could be the same.

 _He knew it!_ His body betraying him and slamming the lid down on the pan with the self-control slipping and supported himself against the counter, maybe because Alex himself was worn down, or because it was Robbie himself coming at it with a giant sledge hammer.

And _then_ he’d stopped.

 

The hand right between his shoulder blades and the silence after the truth being out in the open. He didn’t cry but it was a near thing, what happened instead was hysteric laughter when Robbie jumped high in the air at the popcorn disrupting the silence. It was too comical out of nowhere and Robbie laughed too out of relief with the situation abating. He stole another embrace, before Robbie went back to the couch, to leave it be. Robbie had made his point, he hoped so anyway. He didn’t think he could handle another round.

And it was easy slipping back into normalcy, almost too easy. Because it was cute how Robbie was suspicious of something as common as coconut oil, he couldn’t help but tease him further, enjoying his company as a friend.

 

He wasn’t surprised that Robbie was interested in the lexicons as he got out of the restrictive dress shirt, no more so when he asked about the lack of trophies and pictures, calling him _modest_. He supposed he was modest, if compared to how insufferable he’d been in his youth.

The pictures he had now were those that mattered. Robbie asked him about a specific one.

Expecting it to be one of his niece and nephew or his parents, he leaned in to see which photo it was in the dim light.

Oh.

 _That_ photograph.

It had to be two years ago now, Stanza having taken the picture of them in Reykjavik out on the shopping street, and just out of view of the shot a twin carriage with two fussing five year olds only taxing their parents to a ‘ _normal’_  level for small children.

A different time.

Cutting his ex out of the picture felt weird, too much of a vindictive act, so he’d placed it so that it was only his brother and he within view on the media unit. And naturally Robbie had questions about the Spaniard.

But…

Funny how Robbie found the _exact_ triggering words without knowing Alex’s intimate history with that very _exact_ phrase.

More so funnier how he could ease him back in the present and critique his home in the very same breath. He _did_ like how it currently looked. Sort of. He hadn’t decided on it yet and the freed space was _freeing_ in its own way. It had been a hopeless clutter before the refurbishing. Now the clutter was redirected to the side room and storage unit. Out of sight, out of mind. Manageable.

 

He wondered what Robbie’s own home might look like. The man hadn’t spoken of it since they’d had to needle out of him that he was a landowner and Alex knew no more than the general rural area it was in. He’d like to see it for himself, if Robbie would let him. Had he taken anyone over there before? Someone like the receptionist?

If they were still on the subject of relationships…

Robbie seemed nonplussed by the question if he was considering the man he’d met earlier that evening, and Alex thought he was going to tear the scrap of paper if he kept fidgeting with it like that. Robbie could do better anyway, far better. The fact that he seemed to think so little about his own looks was as an insult to Alex’s own attraction to him. Robbie shouldn’t have to _settle_. He deserved far better than that! There were other options out there for him, than some prejudiced average joe that judged him at first glance, before knowing him.

‘ _Like me_ ,’ the newest of unbidden voices said, not sure of which part it fit better.

And, it wasn’t entirely a lie when Robbie turned the focus onto him. There had been dates he’d been on, nothing that had led further than that. He had realised quite quickly that he wasn’t interested in seeing anyone. Wanting to find his self in singlehood, as well starting to feel that something wasn’t quite right with him physically the further into summer it had progressed. 

Now?

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

 

Then Robbie let it slip about casual affairs and where to find them.

 

His premonition had been right. He crumbled immediately when Robbie confronted him again about his lifestyle. It wasn’t fair. All he asked for was that he’d be careful when he went out alone. Alex had absolutely no say whatsoever in Robbie’s love life. He’d done the same thing himself, he had no high ground.

And yet... If the thought of Robbie standing outside in the dark waiting for the bus in the school district was uneasy, then the one of the man going out to meet a stranger was crushing.

If they were going to play that game, then he’d raise the stakes with something he could hold Robbie accountable for. Something that had worried him for months now. 

At least he got him to agree on a _real_ compromise. Objectively not close to each other’s demands, but impact all the same. He could live with that. However, the disgruntled comment with a new nickname had him completely flabbergasted, due to his own brother’s name and who’d always been referred as _The Elf_ out of the two of them, and if _anyone_ here present was a mischievous fickle _trickster_ , it for sure was Robbie himself!

He was just, just-

‘ _I could kiss you_.’

The comment was said out loud before he could stop himself from using that wording, thankfully the man thought nothing of it and asked him other things, how he’d come to end up in this country and Alex told him a little of the relief of not being under scrutiny anymore. Selfish as it was not to deal with it when he could’ve had an impact on the athletic world and the sport itself.

 

He wished he’d come out officially sooner. Before he’d hit thirty, just to go back into hiding at work, for his own safety this time, and not because of repercussions it could have on a new generation of aspiring athletes because of people leery of sports not inherently masculine. Before, when he’d started working in LazyTown. Before, when Robbie had started there as well and thought that he’d been alone. Bold and brazen as he’d thought the man been, until it turned out that he had been holding back to fit in. Thought that Alex had harboured enmity towards him for it. When he in reality had been projecting his own frustrations over his life onto him…

 

He finally got that chance to apologise for that crushing handshake.

It all still felt as too little, too late.

 

* * *

 

He woke up by the muted alarm and buzzing of the phone in his pocket and credits rolling on the TV-screen. He couldn’t have been asleep for that long.

However, that was a secondary notion. For what he found himself waking up to as well, was a warm body pressed up against his that he had snuggled up to in his sleep, seeking the warmth and subconscious comfort. Accompanied by a hand cupping the inside of his thigh by his groin and a thrill went through his frame, as his body responded to the warm touch, his brain registering with it, and more blood pooling down to said area.

“Robbie?” he exhaled in a whisper. No response. His chest rising and falling with every even breath, leaning against him, deep asleep. The hand’s placement must’ve been an unconscious act. Robbie wasn’t aware of what he was doing. He removed the hand and placed it in the man’s own lap.

He turned off the alarm before the buzz of it woke him up, and was to rise, but cast a lingering glance over his shoulder in conflict. It would be so easy to settle back against him, ignore that he had to leave. Steal this moment…

The T-shirt and sweatpants were a stark contrast to the handsome outfit he’d changed out of, they looked too _plain_ for what Robbie could’ve willingly chosen to wear, too ordinary for the extraordinary man, but the rare sight of uncovered skin was a treat. The bared arms with distinct muscles he always hid under long sleeved turtlenecks and with dark hair over his forearms. Throat exposed as he’d lolled his head to the side for the light of the TV-screen to catch on his facial features. He’d filled out nicely over the months since they’d first met. Shadow of feathery lashes with a heavy brow and high cheekbones in a face that was no longer gaunt, just unique and beautiful in its own way. Pale still, but not pasty, almost porcelain in contrast to his dark hair.

Curls had started to break loose from the hair products he’d used. Was his hair naturally curly? And Robbie’s makeup had faded in the corners of his eyes and the slightly parted lips that he usually abused and bit down on when in thought were a natural shade of pink than the tinted balm that had worn off.

Alex wanted to further ruin it. Some carnal desire he hadn’t felt since… Never? Put his mouth and hands on him. A desire to hold and be held.

 

He was an idiot.

 

Yes, he knew it when he encountered it.

And _it_ was sitting there right in front of him.

Despite how safe he’d tried to be, not wanting to…

Look but don’t touch. Except, he _had_ touched. Had been _touched_.

He’d fallen for him.

Robbie sighed and mumbled something, stretching out in his sleep.

Gingerly, he removed himself, leaving the sleeping man be.

He came back later with a duvet and a pillow, finding him the way he’d left him. Open and inviting.

With a lump in his throat, he manoeuvred the sleeping man into a lying position, trying his best not to wake him up and padded into his bedroom, not daring one last lingering glance, to close the door with a soft click.

He didn’t want to fall in love, not like this. He couldn’t go through this again. It was happening too much, too soon, to be love and not a delusion.

And, he was sure that Robbie didn’t feel the same. Not after the way he’d treated him for months. Their friendship was still delicate. He didn’t want him to be on edge around him again.

 

A ghosting memory of the pale hand between his legs.

“ _Riddu m_ _ér._ ” A curse, and a desperate wish, into the dark air of his empty bedroom as his own hand settled against the pressure.

 

* * *

 

After Robbie had left, he found the scrap of paper with the phone number under the coffee table in two pieces and he felt triumphant, despite his own self sabotage.

 

He was about to place the group photo in back where it belonged with the other photos he had of his family when he stopped himself to look at it again.

 

‘ _Passion and love_ ’.

 

Robbie couldn’t have known how often he’d had heard those words, had uttered them himself interchangeably back when he’d thought that they were one and the same thing. A quote that had stuck with him had fallen out past of his lips last night. He’d read the monologue in a book, one that was probably lost somewhere in the home office now, but the words had struck him so uncannily befitting in the aftermath. An anecdote about passion, that it was, ‘ _a figuration of love that has not taken root, it_ _’s wild, untamed, and burns everything down and then moves on_.’ Because it _had_ been passionate. Basked in the other’s fire, not caring that it was untamed and consuming. He’d thought he’d been in love. He might’ve been, for a while, love for the sake of love, and so had Pablo. But, the man’s _true_ love was his career and the culinary arts.

They’d had so much in common when they’d met, but failed to see that they’d merely been in an intersection and were moving in different directions. Not on the same wavelength and with different needs.

He had been ready to settle down where he was, together, taken out a second mortgage and applied for dual citizenship. While Pablo had all that time wanted to move back to Spain to open a new restaurant by the sea, been planning on it for years. And then. The flame had moved on, and he’d found himself looking at a _stranger_ across their old, Pablo’s old, kitchen table when the man had made it clear that he had to follow his true passion, _and love_.

He supposed that was one of the reasons he was so reluctant to move back to Iceland. A betrayal to the decision to end it and stay behind. 

 

So, why did he still have that picture up, and so many more in his phone?

 

He took the photograph out of its frame and threw it away. He could always ask Álfur for a new picture of himself.

 

* * *

 

Bessie was sitting behind her desk, her blue high heels abandoned by the coat hanger and looking herself like she’d been through hardship. If she had, it was all on her.

She looked up and gratefully took the offered mug of coffee he held before her with a thank you on her lips as she drank from it. Bessie’s sober vice; caffeine. Office culture only seemed to encourage it. “Can I ask you a favour?” she asked.

“Yes?” Technically, he was in there to ask her of one, but she had beaten him to it.

“The next time you see me with a cigarette in hand, I want you to remove it from me by any means necessary, use force if needed, just do something to stop me.”

He chuckled, “I can try, but you’ll fight me back.”

She grumbled into her coffee, “I swear, my mouth still tastes like ashtray.”

Yet, she never learned.

While Alex had seen Robbie off the following day after the pub event, Bessie had been nursing a wine induced hangover, and that still had not let her go completely out of its grip it would seem.

Bessie looked up again. “How did you fare after you and Robbie got home?”

“It was good, we watched a movie…” He wavered, then decided to sit down across from her and tell her. “I’ve sent in a request for an insulin pump.”

She eyeballed him, then said, “you did? Thank god,  _finally_.”

“I don’t know how long the process is, or if I meet the criteria.”

“Quicker than you’d think. And, yes, you do. You scared the hell out of us last Saturday.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

She snorted at the apology. “Dear, you’re doing your best.”

“…And I can’t do better than that.” His own words when encouraging the younger visitors when they were playing and trying on new activities. “Bessie?”

“Yes?”

‘ _The whole goddamn office is worried about you_ ,’ Robbie had said. He just knew that it had to be more than Penny talking the man into trying to convince him to give in and get the aid. “Don’t put Robbie in that position again.”

She levelled him with a stare, knowing what he meant, confirming what he knew. “Alex, you did that to him yourself.”

 

* * *

 

Alex wished he could feel as happy about it as everyone else did. It did help him, physically, and it felt like it was an ‘ _I told you so_ ’ in his face. It had been blaringly obvious to everyone, but himself.

He’d been using it for a week now and it was a learning curve, not to accidentally snag the tubing on something, getting used to the ill-concealed stares when he was out and about. It was small, fit in his hand, and yet, it felt so cumbersome.

The first weeks with it could be ‘ _shaky_ ’ he’d been told, because he was now switching from two to only one type of insulin.

He had felt it. Of sorts.

The pump… Other users, reviews and consultation, all claimed that they loved it. He didn’t.

 

* * *

 

The red drapes hanging in his bedroom were making a bold statement. Robbie had practically forced him to put them up when he’d found them in the storage unit after he had made true on his offer to help with his bike. He’d explained pieces and parts that Alex barely even knew what their names were in his native tongue to begin with, but it was fascinating all the same to find out that Robbie was of the handy sort.

He was enjoying getting to know ‘ _Robbie, his friend_ ’. Not _,_ ‘ _Robert the ex-offender_ ’ he’d read about in a folder. Things he liked, stuff about work, discussing academical things they had in common. However, he was reserved about his current home, what was said didn’t sound too good though. An old house that demanded a lot of upkeep, sounding too much for one lone individual to deal with. And he said even less about things surrounding family, and instead letting Alex fill the air with anecdotes of his own instead.

He had to admit, it was easier to face the contents of the unit with someone by his side, Robbie seemed to have made it his mission to not as much unclutter his storage and side room, but spread it out over his flat where he thought it should go. Books out in the room divider and fabrics up in the window. He had even put up the fastenings for the curtain rod for him himself, so he couldn’t ‘ _Sportaflake-out_ ’.

 

There was just one problem.

 

Álfur was laughing himself into tears on the other end of the line. “He…” he broke into more laughter until he with a shaky breath tried to continue, “he made you put up the _Christmas curtains?!_ ”

“I don’t think he realised that the embroidered flower silhouettes at the hem were poinsettias.”

His brother made an undignified snort and laughed even harder.

Alex’s face broke into a wide grin, and a warm nice feeling coiled in his gut at the sight of the drapes, that were just as bold and unapologetic as the man that had shoved them in his face.

 

* * *

 

Earlier that spring he’d been shirtless in the park, enjoying the heat of the sun on his skin and thought nothing more of it. Now, it didn’t feel as such a natural thing.

He’d never before been self-conscious about his looks. He _knew_ that he looked good. By others that had complimented him over the years, and by his own standards, he was still vain like that. He had worked hard for this body.

Had put in hard work and dedication.

But, that vanity and self-confidence had taken a serious hit.

He stood in front of the washing mirror, shirtless and staring at his naked upper body. Changing with age was a natural part of life, and he was in excellent shape for his age.

However…

There were dark patches of old adhesive he didn’t seem to be able to remove without scrubbing himself raw and causing red marks from the capillaries under his skin, and _still_ there would be remnants where lint would stick and discolour soon after again. But, _that_ would eventually either shed, be peeled or washed off with time.

It wasn’t permanent.

Not like what caused the discolorations in the first place and what he _hated_ , because it was part of himself now.

The glucose monitor in part, but the true eyesore itself was the infusion set that was a glaring white disc formed piece of plastic against his skin with its tubing snaking out in lame coils into the pump he’d attached to the waist of his jeans.

Looking alien.

Looking _wrong_.

And it most certainly wasn’t sexy.

 

What he couldn’t change he should learn how to accept and love about himself, he said so to others, it was just, it rang hollow in his own ears right now.

He was lucky, it could be worse, he knew that, and that fed the guilt of his newfound insecurities.

 

Sighing in resignation, he put his shirt back on and went into the home office, for as long as it would stay like that, the idea of turning it into a guest room so people, _Robbie_ , wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch when they, _him_ , came over to stay the night, was turning more into an actual thing.

He sat down and opened up the laptop he’d found himself using more and more often as of lately.

 

Hypothetically, if he were to, he would have to know what to do if he were to be intimate with someone.

It didn’t have to be Robbie, just, it was good knowledge to have on hand should he…

He felt awkward, typing in the words in the search bar.

‘ _How to have sex with an insulin pump_.’

The short answer was ‘ _Don_ _’t_ ’.

“Oh…”

The long answer was a little more uplifting, but it all too well made it clear that the bedroom would always contain three things;

Alex.

His partner.

 _And the pump_.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, I don’t feel so good,” the boy complained, looking lethargic and nauseated.

“Well, duh, that’s what happens when you down it all in one go, Ziggy,” Trixie quipped.

“Are you alright?” he asked the boy, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. The boy was active, far more than some others in his age group, he had an abundance of energy and loved playing with his friends, but, he also had a serious sugar addiction, Alex had taken notice of that since long ago, the youngest in the group being one of the most recurring consumers of the kiosk’s inventory of sugary treats and snacks. And every moment not running and playing, was with some kind of candy in hand, sometimes _while_ _playing_ , making him hyperactive with too much sugar in his system before he had a minor crash of his own and nausea from all the sweets he’d eaten.

“I think I ate too much candy,” he said, confirming Alex’s prediction.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat as much then? If they make you feel bad,” Stephanie said, shaking her head. She’d taken her responsibility over him quite seriously of bringing him into her group of friends, and thanks to the positive influence of his peers over the months he was a more level headed young individual now, compared to the tantrum prone child he’d been back in January.

However, the sweet tooth he harboured hadn’t improved much.

“But, they taste so _good_ ,” he sulked.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. A bad habit Alex was beginning to think she’d gotten from he himself, as it had been pointed out to him by his colleagues that he was in the habit of doing.

That was a problem for another time though.

 

Robbie had had a valid point when Alex had earlier brought up his worries over the child;

“We’re not their _parents_.”

“No, but we _do_ have a responsibility for them while they’re _here_ ,” Alex had argued back.

Still, they couldn’t refuse service to the boy when he wanted to buy sweets out of the kiosk. “Yeah, sure,” the man had retorted, “but, if we refuse to sell him stuff from the kiosk that isn’t your disgusting nature’s shoddy excuse of candy, they’re going to ask why and then look at the kid’s body shape and assume _that_ _’s_ why. If you want to have this discussion with his mum, then be my guest.”

 

Infuriating, and true.

 

He did not want to negatively effect the child’s self-esteem by refereeing to his weight for his age, that would be beyond cruel. A nine year old should _never_ have to worry about their weight. No child should.

No, this wasn’t about the boy’s weight or shape, but future complications that the excessive consummation of sweets could cause. Tooth decay, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, heart problems and high blood pressure in the future.

But also, type two diabetes.

It was killing him to see the boy risk having to go through what he’d been struggling with, was still struggling with on bad days, at such a tender age right in front of his eyes, especially when it was _Alex himself_ selling the sweets.

He did not want to use his own condition with similar symptoms as a scare tactic. ‘ _See, this is what happens if you eat too much sweets_.’ No, that was out of the question.

There _had_ to be another way. Telling his parents not to leave the boy with change in his pocket to buy snacks while he was there wasn’t going to do much. And his parents were already well aware of nutrition intake, the boy’s mother was a nutritionist herself. Maybe the problem stemmed from there, he could only speculate, too much focus creating an obsession in forbidden fruits.

And that kiosk was there as a constant temptation for the boy to buy even more sweets when the nausea had passed and his body craved more sugar.

 

With Robbie, he’d had to trick him with their deal and had cornered him into trying new greens and healthy options. He’d complain about it, but he at least ate healthier while at work, honouring his end of the deal.

Ziggy on the other hand was but a child. He couldn’t, nor ever wished to, force him into changing his habits and skipping the candy to instead eat fruits if he was craving for something sweet.

However, he could try to nudge and encourage him into making healthier choices outside of parental supervision.

“You don’t have to buy the sweets in the kiosk every day, there are many other things it sells as well that are better, and taste better even.”

“Sportacus is right,” Stephanie said, getting a row of nodding heads around her from the group.

An idea. It would be better to address the whole group than the lone individual, and they could influence each other to do healthy active choices as something fun.

“I bet, that if you all tried something else next time from the kiosk, like fruits and the salad boxes, that you’ll like it.”

Ziggy wasn’t quite sold on the idea yet. “But, Sportacus, you don’t _like_ sweet things, of course you think that anything else tastes better,” he justified, “even if you _could_ have them,” the explanation and learning moment of Alex’s diabetes still fresh in mind. The tubing was visible out in the open space of his unzipped hoodie from the bottom hem of his T-shirt and the pocket of his jeans this very moment to strengthen the boy’s argument.

Ziggy’s statement wasn’t _entirely_ correct though. “I _do_ like sweet things,” he said. “Apples, pears, berries and bananas for example, are very sweet and they help keeping me strong. And, they are a great source of energy to help me exercise and play with you, like football and rounders.”

Nods and agreeing hums from them.

‘ _Nature_ _’s shoddy excuse of_ _candy_ ’.

An idea. The boy loved playing and candy, why not try to put emphasis on both those parts?

Think of it as ‘ _sportscandy_ ’,” he tried. “It gives you energy to play games for longer, it’s still sweet, _and_ it doesn’t make you feel bad afterwards.”

A thoughtful look passed over the child’s face before he exclaimed, “yeah!” then added, “I think I’m going to go inside and get some sportscandy right now!”

“Maybe you should have some water first and wait until you feel better,” he chuckled. “Then you can go buy sportscandy.”

 

The kiosk would never go away, it was where it was and would not stop selling sweets, but hopefully, with the idea that the boy was coming into the age where the influence of friend groups were strong and with the continuous positive feedback from them, it might make a dent in the boy’s behaviour.

 

* * *

 

He held up one of the new pictures before him that he’d had let print out and frame.

Alex had asked for a newer picture of his brother, but received two. One of the entire household in a family photo, and one of Álfur holding up the puppy. He wasn’t complaining, it was a nice gesture and he’d have to go and buy another frame for the family photo.

“Impressive fur,” he said.

“He sheds his own weight in fur everywhere,” his brother replied.

He grinned. “I was talking about you. Nice beard scruff, you look like dad.”

“Great, now I got to shave it all off.”

“ _Nei”_ ”, he chuckled, “it looks alright.”

“Stanza is in an emotional paradox about it. She like the looks of it too. But, whenever I get near her she screams and swats at me!”

He broke into ugly laughter.

“The dog has had great impact on the kids though, especially Halla. We’ll see how it goes during the summer when school’s out. I can’t let them out of my sight for one second as it is.”

“Both of them?”

“All three of them.”

“They’re getting the dog in trouble?”

“Oh, you have no idea. Have you ever seen a guilty looking dog?”

“ _Gu_ _ð_ _minn_ ,” he laughed.

“But it’s also because tick season has begun. I found one in his fur the other day after we came back from the dog park and we checked the kids to make sure they didn’t have any on them.”

Alex grimaced. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Remember when we were kids? We could run _everywhere_. And now I’m afraid of letting them go play outside, because of a bug.”

“Yes, at least there’s no TBE.”

“No, but borrelia. I want them to have healthy active lives, so, we’re all getting vaccinated, before we’re going camping.”

“Taking a page out of dad’s book?”

His brother snorted, “I’m not dragging them out on a mountain side to fend for themselves and it’s not in the middle of winter either, but I think we all need to get out of the house. I got my scheduled holiday from the fire department in July, but you never know what might happen, so we’re sticking to _Úlflj_ _ótsvatn._ ”

He smiled. They had been in their teens when their dad had flown them inland, stating that they were ‘ _tearing the house apart_.’ It had been out there, respectively fifteen and soon seventeen years old and sharing a small cabin where they’d fought over sides of the space, that he’d come out to his brother. “True.”

“Anyway, I hope you like the photos. But, why did you ask for new pictures out of the blue?”

“Thought it would be nice with newer pictures in general and get a new one of you without Mario in it.”

A pause. “ _Mario?_ ”

Shit. _Helv_ _íti!_

How was that even possible?!

“Pablo,” Alex corrected quickly. “Robbie called him that as a joke and it must’ve stuck,” he explained. Meanwhile his mind was reeling over the slip. Was it that easy to forget the name of someone you’d been together with for years?!

“Robbie… He really has an effect on you.” A plain statement.

‘ _More than you_ _’d ever know_ ,’ he thought.

He could barely stay focused, when he did something repetitive, be it at work, running that otherwise helped to clear his head, or stretching before bed where he was alone and languid, his mind wandered.

It was worse then, in the evenings, in the confines of his home.

Clever hands holding him, deep voice and hot breath by his ear, those pale eyes. Dirty fantasies he prayed Robbie would never find out about.

 

The man _haunted_ him.

 

And he, in turn, stole things. Not material ones, but moments, small touches, small comforts. All he thought he could get away with in the real physical world. That still weren’t enough.

 

“I’ve,” a hesitation, he sat down in the couch and put away the newly framed picture on the coffee table, “I really like him,” he confessed out loud.

“Wow,” was all Álfur said, not even sparing room for the usual teasing.

“Yeah.” 

“And he?” The implicit ‘ _And does he like you?_ ’

“I have no idea,” he answered truthfully.

“Well, he _somehow_ made you finally get the aid and you seem happier, maybe you should ask him and find out?”

He toyed with the idea. “I might.” Ask him out for dinner, or something else that they could do, see where it went from there. “…Maybe I should.”

His brother was, however, not done. “…I’m going to be honest with you, I know I promised not to badger you, but… The fact that you seem to have found someone in your life again is the best news in a long time. I don’t care if it’s friendship or if you’re going to ask him out, I’m just relieved that you’re not alone. Just… Don’t focus everything on him. Don’t put all your happiness and dependency onto one person.”

Was he referring to his previous relationships, or Álfur himself? They hadn’t talked that much after he’d told him of what he’d done to Robbie. Hadn’t told him that he’d crashed at the pub event, didn’t need to make him worry any more than he was and had stuck to other subjects.

Alex had learnt his lesson not to let himself be swept away and into these things like before. He knew that it was unhealthy to focus his all on one person and end up neglecting everything else. In case things went downhill and he had to pick up the pieces again, alone.

Yet, he felt defiant. Robbie wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before.

“I think I’m going to give it a chance,” he said. “I’m going to pursue it.”

“Okay, wow, you got it bad,” Álfur laughed. His laughter abated into a chuckle, and he heard in his voice the thoughtful tone, “you know, something just struck me… But, I don’t think I remember of _you_ pursuing someone before. Not like _this_ anyway”

Alex blinked and stared out before him. “I… Surely…” He tried to think back on his previous relationships. His most recent one, and even further back, _far back_. He’d never had to make a move on someone, they’d come to him. The women when he’d still been in the closet he could easily deflect towards his brother or a friend, and the men… He’d had to be careful with. But, he’d never with purpose pursued someone like this. Someone else had always pursued _him_.

 

Could he do this?

There was only one way of finding out he supposed.

 

* * *

 

“It’s nice to see her socialise outside of her family,” one of the volunteers said, a student who was aiming for a temp job with them this summer. “She’s always hanging near Robbie,” they added.

He could understand how people could come to that conclusion. There was a certain likeness to them at first glance. Dark haired and fair with light eyes.

“They’re not related,” he said. Not as far as anyone knew anyway. Robbie didn’t speak of his family, but he was from a different part of the country, so chances were slim that they would be.

Alex had to shield his eyes against the sun as he looked out over the field and spotted Ella by the outdoor wooden benches eating ice cream with the others.

As Alex had cautioned Robbie about the attachment going both ways, it was bittersweet when they did find their own group of friends and wasn’t as dependent on adult support.

Robbie hadn’t outwardly acknowledged it, but it would seem that he’d gotten attached to the child. So when she’d started to socialise with Stephanie and Trixie after the _First Day of Summer_ disco they’d held for the middle schoolers last week he’d dejectedly declared, ‘ _oh no, she_ _’s joined the hooligans,_ ’ when he’d slept over at his place that evening rather than taking the late night bus.

Alex snorted in humour at the sight before him in the here and now, Robbie wasn’t there to see it, being inside the building most of the time because of his allergies, but Ella was far from as lively as her new friends.

Anything that didn’t involve dancing and music she would scoff and turn her nose up at, and then sit by the side sulking. Looking very much like the dark haired youth leader inside and Alex could very well understand the misconception of them being related to one another now.

Robbie was right about one thing though; she was a bit of a sly one. He’d caught her teaching Trixie bad words in signing just earlier. His own signing was rusty, but he remembered enough to tell her to stop, making her fluster when she’d realised that her mischief wasn’t as covert as she’d thought. Alex should probably join Robbie for the sign language courses to brush up his skills, make it something they could practice, together.

Yes, Ella’s newfound social competence was probably what had Robbie looking that glum lately, however, he looked strained as well, for reasons that Alex had yet to figure out why. It wasn’t the paperwork, that he knew of anyway, the man dealt with it with the same efficiency as always.

As for himself, Bessie had asked Alex to take over her workload since he was the senior one and most experienced when she went on her holiday. He’d done so before, nothing unusual about that, but, now it felt almost as if she was grooming him for taking on more sedentary tasks for the future. He felt somewhat selfish for thinking so, but Robbie would fit those tasks better, he’d thought so since the start.

But, until that happened, he’d try to get out as much as possible of the active and social activities and gone out of his way to get in on the upcoming summer activities when they’d change their working hours.

 

* * *

 

As attachment going both ways, he was confronted with his own the very next day, coming trudging up the outdoor court towards him.

“Sportac, uhm, Alex?” he said, hands deep in the pockets of his skater jeans, wearing an oversized T-shirt instead of his usual attire and brown hair in full view without the beanie.

There was a moment where they were just staring at one another.

It had been almost two months now. “Jives?” he said, having found his voice again.

“Uh, hi? Can we, uhm, talk?”

“Yes, sure,” he answered.

 

Jives had been coming in since he was old enough to visit LazyTown and Alex had over the years come to be attached to the boy in turn as the too thin and socially awkward child had latched onto him. A sort of parental feeling, as he did towards his brother’s kids. And Ms. Junkfood had commented years ago, when the boy had presented the crocheted cap for him, and Alex had hesitated at accepting the gift from one of their visitors, that it was nice that the boy had a positive role model in his life as him and assured that it was fine to accept the gift from the then thirteen year old.

That’s why it had cut that deep when the boy had lied to him and hung out with some of the last people he could’ve ever wanted him to.

 

The boy’s lips were a thin straight line and he stared pointedly downwards.

“Talking usually involves words,” he tried to coax him.

“I’m sorry,” Jives began.

And once he’d started, the words came tumbling out in a stream.

He just hung back and let the teen explain himself. Getting an uncanny sense of déja vu of the fumbling and the discomfort displayed.

 

He’d been hurt, but it had been out of selfishness that he’d been angry. He wasn’t, not anymore. Now, he was just relieved to see Jives again and that he was okay.

There was just one small problem with the apology, towards the end, he seemed to push it towards the actual incident and not see the issue that had led up to it.

“-I didn’t think they would be massive dicks, I’m sorry I brought them here, I didn’t know they’d do all that.”

He sighed and rubbed his mouth. The boy was sorry for what had happened, but the core issue didn’t seem to have registered. “It’s not that you brought them here, Jives,” he tried to explain. The intentions had been good, but the people involved were not. “It’s that you lied to me and that you _knew_ that what you did was wrong the whole time.”

“Like you’ve never screwed up before,” the teen sulked.

Alex worked his jaw. He had, on multiple occasion. “I have. Many times. Screwing up is part of life, if you can’t acknowledge that you’ve made them and own up to them, then you’re going to repeat them. I’m here for you, Jives, I want you to know that, but you need to realise of what you’ve done as well.”

“You sound like the woman from assistance Robbie had mum set up with.”

Alex startled. “Robbie did that? When?”

“Like, a few days later.”

“I didn’t know that.” He had no idea that Robbie had been in contact with Jives after the incident.

“Yeah, he helped talk mum down and told me what to do with school and stuff… I don’t want to talk about that.”

Alex nodded. That was understandable.

“You and Robbie… You two still, uh, he said you two were pissy with each other then.”

He faltered, it had been _that_ weekend. “We were. But it’s good now.” Despite it all. “We were both angry at each other. Robbie more rightfully so.” He sighed, “you’re not the only one that hasn’t been telling the truth.”

“Like what?”

Here went… Something.

 

Jives eyes went wide. “You’re _diabetic_?”

“I _have_ diabetes, yes.”

“Shit. Seriously? When did this happen?”

“Officially, I found out in October. I’ve been on insulin therapy since then and I started wearing this insulin pump a few weeks ago.”

“Fuck,” he gasped under his breath.

“You don’t _need_ to use that type of language.” He was glad they had stepped away to the side-lines, away from the younger visitors so they didn’t have to listen to the swearing, not because they were all that innocent, but more so not to normalise the parlance.

“This _is_ how I talk,” he protested, before he asked, “so, like, all this time, you’ve been sick? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Alex levelled him with a look. The teen was old and self-aware enough to realise his own accountability in withholding personal information.

“Right. Yeah, okay got me there.” The boy ducked his head.

He just chuckled and smiled at him.

“So, uhm, like, are we cool?” the boy said eventually.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “we are,” and clasped his shoulder, tugging him into a usual quick hug and let go. “Robbie’s inside, if you want to talk to him as well.”

“Maybe some other time?” The boy rubbed his neck and looked towards a couple of cars parked along the street next to the building. “Mum’s waiting in the car for me. I just wanted to come by to apologize to you. You can… You can tell him I said hi, I suppose.”

“I will.”

 

Jives gave one last wave in his direction before he got into his mother’s car and he watched them drive away.

 

Why hadn’t Robbie told him?

The man had helped Jives, using what tools he had, and despite the grudge and animosity between him and Alex being so fresh then, he’d seen past that and done good.

 

He felt warm through and through, and on that feeling of affection and marvel he made up his mind.

He was going to ask Robbie out.

 

Alex could do this. Butterflies in his stomach, he was at the entrance when his phone rang. For a moment there he thought that it was his alarm, he’d conditioned himself to the signal at work to the degree that his first instinct always were to check his values in a knee jerk reaction, despite the glucose monitor he now had, than that someone was actually calling him.

He looked at the number and creased his brow in confusion. Bessie? She was inside in her office last time he’d spoken to her, did she need something from him?”

That she did.

“Alex, can you come up to my office? I need for you to look at the requisitions we’d made for internal services. Something here doesn’t add up.” Her voice was low, urgent.

He passed by the kiosk to spot Robbie selling ice cream to a couple of teens, not noticing him pass by. He looked tired, Alex noted. The butterflies making a small comeback. He’d ask him what the matter was, as soon as he’d spoken to Bessie, it shouldn’t take too long hopefully.

 

Why the disco ball hadn’t been secured as regulated, nor taken down, all the broken things that they had sent in requests to have fixed because there rarely were anyone in the janitors’ office to take the requests in person, why it had taken Bessie so long to get a hold on someone when the handicap toilet had been vandalised.

The old investigation from back in Marsh of why safety measures had not been met had not led anywhere more than a general reprimand, but, the question of why it hadn’t been taken down for three whole months had resulted in a ping. A notion that had reverberated within the whole department with similar incidents of work not being carried out as it should within set timeframes.

There was a pattern of delays, however, LazyTown was a peculiar exception.

Because some things _did_ get mended and tended to, the smaller ones, but their designated inquiries were still pending Bessie had discovered. And what was checked off on the task list didn’t match up to the dates, being far after that they recalled having been tended to in reality. Nor did the schedules when people should be in the building fit with reality.

“Those, those conniving, bastarding-” she seethed at the evidence before her.

“Bessie,” he said her name in a low voice in an attempt to calm her down.

“The only thing that’s according to schedule and recollection is the cleaning staff,” she growled, seeming more egged on by the failed attempt. “And we still don’t know who’s been here tending to _our_ inquiries! This is a serious safety issue!”

He kept quiet and nodded, and looked down at his own documents with the dodgy task list.

“Who, who, who?” she murmured under her breath as she returned to the lists she’d requested. “One of the volunteers?”

“The volunteers don’t have access to the tool storage,” he said, they both knew that.

“Then, if no one fixed these things then…? Then who?” She splayed her hands out over the desk in aggravation.

It hit him. “Robbie,” he exhaled, looking up from the papers before him.

“You really think so?”

Robbie was handy enough to do most of these things by his own, and he had been seen clean and clear out areas where some of the maintenance were checked off. It wouldn’t be such a great leap to assume that he’d done it himself, since no one had told him not to.

“It adds up.”

“Good god,” she said and rubbed her forehead, “this is my fault.”

“No, it’s mine,” he said. “You’re not down on the floor like me, I should have noticed this earlier.”

This was like when they’d left Robbie to fend for himself as the only employee in the establishment all over again.

God, why did they keep doing this!? Why did Alex keep doing this!? _Why hadn_ _’t he noticed?!_

“That’s sweet of you, dear. But this establishment is my administrative responsibility. Thank you though,” she said and dismissed him. “But, please, find Robbie and tell him to stop fixing things and not telling anyone like some invisible house goblin when no one’s looking.” A sigh, “god, we don’t deserve him.”

No, they truly didn’t.

 

Now more then ever did he have cause to find Robbie.

He wasn’t in the kiosk anymore. Alex grabbed an apple from the bowl and ventured further in.

“Penny, have you seen Robbie?”

“He just went on his break,” she said “I think he was going towards the locker rooms… He didn’t look too good though.” She gave him a concerned look over that part.

Last time that had happened Robbie had had an allergic reactions to something.

“Thanks, I’ll go check it out, can you go and help outside?”

“Sure.”

 

At first, he’d thought that she’d been mistaken. The locker room was empty, and he was about to turn on his heel.

That’s when he heard it. A muffled sobbing coming from the toilet that he now saw was locked.

Was he…? Was he crying?

He tapped on the door. “Robbie?” Just to check if it was him.

“ _Go away._ ”

It was, and the harsh sounding words weren’t a good sign. At all.

 

Robbie wasn’t alright, but he wasn’t going to open the door for him and if he wanted to see him, he’d had to open it himself.

 

The janitors’ office was empty as usual, the reason behind it now having been brought to light, he marched through it and got the hex keys he needed to open the door.

He knew that he was violating the man’s privacy, but he couldn’t leave him, knowing that something was wrong, enough to make the man cry, and with a forewarning that he was going to open the door he twisted the key.

And the sight nearly broke his heart.

He found him sitting under the basin hugging his knees, mascara in clumps under bloodshot eyes and red faced. Was he hurt? What had happened?

The upset man was about as happy to see him as expected, he’d gone in there for the sole reason that he didn’t want to be found crying at work.

He had to forgo his rule of never blocking off any exit for Robbie since it seemed to cause him discomfort, but in this crammed space he wasn’t left with much choice but to sit down parallel to him and try to coax him into telling what was wrong.

To find out that there was nothing he could do.

Alex felt like an idiot. He’d never known that Robbie was still struggling financially. And, he’d suspected that the house he lived in was demanding, but not that it was completely _draining_ Robbie of his mental wellbeing.

And here he’d had the nerve to complain about a mortgage, when Robbie with his dodgy history and years of living with the reality that he could be homeless any second only wanted a roof over his head, on _his_ terms.

And his family.

Guilt over that Robbie had accepted the money was saturating his words, the money he’d needed to help set his life on a better path. Guilt over what he’d put them through and even more guilt over his younger brothers and stealing his mother’s jewellery when he’d run from home.

Pain Robbie still carried with him a decade later.

He shouldn’t push for Robbie to tell him, shouldn’t push for more, but he couldn’t help himself. Of wanting to know where it had all gone so utterly wrong for him. If it had been his inability to live up to expectations due to his undiagnosed learning disability and being the oldest? Too many people in a small house? His closeted sexuality in a conservative household? Or, meeting the wrong people, like Jives had?

 

And then he told him.

 _Everything_.

 

The fighting with his parents, bullying, the local gang he’d started to hang with, the scraping by, the odd illicit jobs, stealing, cheating, the homelessness.

God, he had suspected that there’d been more than what had been in the folder of information Obtuse had dug up, he just hadn’t known the nature of it all.

Alex had worked with rehabilitating young adults, some of them repeat offenders. He knew their worldview, closely, but was, at the end of the day, still an outsider.

Robbie had _lived_ amongst them. Been afraid, desperate, enough to risk harming himself rather than doing something that there’d be no turning back from.

Had already broken free all by himself by the time he’d gotten the insurance outcome.

And still.

He was so proud of him and couldn’t help but start crying. Because it hurt further that the man couldn’t see just how far he’d gotten on his own. Stronger than Alex, who’d had to be _forced_ into getting the help he needed. The money had helped, but Robbie could’ve just as well done what he’d seen others who’d gotten the opportunity and mindlessly waste it all. That the reason Robbie was doing the odd jobs around the building because he didn’t view himself as equal to Penny and Alex. He was so, so, much more. And Alex had been too stuck in his own self pity and running away to dump the other essential parts of their work on Robbie and not notice how skewed it all was until accidents happened, just because he was too afraid of sitting behind a desk, or a counter, like a brat who’d rather play fun games, than a grown man taking his responsibility.

 

God, Alex was such an idiot. _Robbie_ , the here and now, and _Robert_ , the youth that had been let down by everyone and used. They were one and the same before him.

He was almost glad that he’d eaten that apple, or he might’ve done something stupid when Robbie asked about it.

Because, sitting crammed up, close enough to touch, but not enough to hold him. Reality sunk in with finality. And it _hurt_.

_He loved him_.

 

But, Robbie didn’t need another lover, he needed a friend.

 

* * *

 

“You were right,” he sighed.

“I don’t quite follow,” his brother said. “Did he turn you down?”

“No, it’s just… He’s going through his own thing right now. I don’t want to risk what we have.”

 

Robbie hadn’t asked him for money to help paying for the installation of the new water heater, and Alex didn’t know how to feel about that if he was to be completely honest. He was willing to offer anything he could to help him and he’d made a tentative attempt at offering more hands on help, but the other man had shut him down with efficiency before he’d finished the sentence. There was personal pride you just didn’t infringe on. Despite that, Alex kept pushing for more, because he’d never been good with sitting idly by when others were going through hardship.

 

However, Robbie had taken him up on the offer of using his bathroom until he had hot water again, even though they had showers at their work. Coming in around noon, plaster under his nails and some in his hair from repairing the damaged wall and dark almost black circles under his eyes. Alex never got to find out what he looked without the hair products though, at best, or worst depending on who you’d ask he supposed, stray curls and strands breaking loose that’d only make him more curious. No, he’d gone in, occupied the space for almost an hour, and then come out with his hair styled and makeup on to hide the dark under his eyes he’d entered with.

Not quite a disguise not quite the whole truth back in place.

Alex was probably not the only one that needed to see someone. He didn’t think that Robbie had ever told anyone before of what he’d been through. It was humbling, overwhelming, it scared him, and it was an awesome privilege.

And, it made him realise how skewed their relationship was, and how much more it risked be.

Robbie had told him because he trusted him. Making a move on him would be a betrayal of that trust.

They were romantically a bad fit anyway, he told himself. Their needs were completely different and yet too much alike.

 

‘ _After they hit their forties it_ _’s like men are single for a good reason_.’

Prejudiced and carelessly uttered by a hypocritical woman in passing that he didn’t know.

But, maybe, she’d been right. Maybe he _was_ single for a reason. Self-imposed in the beginning and now realising that it might be for the better after all. Too intense, too high maintenance. Too much, too soon. Those were probably his good reasons.

Not the foundation for a healthy relationship, nor what Robbie needed.

So, why couldn’t he stop, despite having come to a decision that he should?

A rhetorical question. He knew full well _why_. 

He was insane, he’d fallen off the deep end.

 

Álfur said, “I understand.”

“Yeah, it’s just...” Robbie was… He was beautiful. On the outside, but most importantly, on the inside as well. He was good. He was… “ _Hann_ _… Hann er go_ _ður, hann er fin_ _…_ ” he said into the phone.

“Oh god, you _do_ have it bad,” not in a teasing voice like he’d done the last time, but serious.

He laughed wryly, “you see? I need to cool down and take a step back.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. But, yes, that might be for the better.”

“It’s never stopped you from trying before,” he replied with a small smile.

He chortled, “it’s always worth a shot. You’re the most headstrong person I know.”

Alex hummed, that might be true, for better and for worse.

“You’re taking your summer holiday the first weeks of august, right?” Álfur asked.

“Yes?”

“It’s… It’s just a thought, but, my own scheduled summer holiday had to be moved a week in July and into the first week of August. I could come over for a week, you know.”

“Álfur…”

“If you want to. Just us two, or I could bring the family, well, except for the dog. He’d have to go into quarantine _again_ for a month. But, it’s a suggestion.”

“I… Yes, _yes_ ,” he said and smiled broadly. “That would be great.”

“Alright, I’ll get back to you on that then.”

 

* * *

 

In hindsight, he’d been playing a dangerous game with his health for months by keeping his supplies in his locker, where it was hard to reach if an emergency would occur, he’d wisen up and put them in their office now. But, _this?_ It felt like he’d done a complete one hundred and eighty, borderlining on paranoid. Alex put down the backpack on the foldable bed and it made a muffled rattle, he’d overdone the packing, that he was sure of.

This wasn’t like when he’d gone to visit his family over Christmas when it all was still too fresh, and he had a list of things he needed to pack and how to adjust his dosage because of different time zones, extra supplies and double amount of insulin, emergency numbers and informing the crew on the flight of his condition.

He felt silly. This was just over one night, and he hadn’t even left the municipality! He had his cartridges and extra insulin in a small cooling box at the bottom, but it was the extra material for the pump and glucose monitor that were causing the racket and made him wish he’d secured them better with a shirt or pair of socks. The backpack always contained extra supplies to make his day easier, if something was to happen, or if he had to go somewhere.

It wasn’t as when he was younger anymore, when he could grab his wallet and maybe a spare change of clothes and leave on an impromptu visit somewhere.

His host seemed to find humour in his overpacking at least.

It was beautiful out there, remote, but that seemed to suit the other man perfectly, he’d never been too fond of loud noises and crowds he’d come to understand. This, out here, was his quiet haven.

Robbie _had_ invited him, had told him that he was free to visit after the basement had been dealt with. And, when the man had declared that the job was indeed finished, Alex had jumped on the chance and asked if he could come over that weekend, before thinking better of it, letting his curiosity and that need to get closer get the better of him.

 

And he felt like it had paid off. Because, the worn faded façade didn’t make its contents justice at all. The inside of the house was _everything_ and _nothing_ like what he’d imagined! He knew that Robbie was prone to small eccentrics with the way he presented himself and his sense of humour and interests. Still he hadn’t been nowhere ready. Rich colours painting the walls and odd whimsy décor mixed with rusticism.

The bright orange chair however had to be the pinnacle of it all. Where on earth had the man gotten that monstrosity from?! It looked comfortable, no wonder that Robbie fell asleep in it, but it was just too over the top for Alex to handle.

But, everything in here, chair included, it was… _It was so Robbie._

The man had made it sound like it was a hovel, but it was a sizeable house that was fairly well kept for one man.

Maybe too much for one man though. He asked about the newer fresh floorboards in the middle of the room.

Robbie told him that the previous owners hadn’t taken too good care of the house, had made disastrous endeavours to deal with. Like leaving a gaping hole in the sitting room apparently. That had to be a feat for any repairman to mend, the man was handy but surely Robbie hadn’t done this on his own? Or, maybe he had. Something passed behind Robbie’s eyes as he fell silent and stared at the wood floor. He claimed not to be lonely out here, yet… It wasn’t an overly large house, but, for one lone person, someone that came from a larger family, it had to be too big with more rooms than he had need for. Though the rooms were well kept it was visible that only a few of them were actually used. The kitchen, the recliner and the bedroom, though he was starting to wonder if Robbie wasn’t favouring the gaudy orange recliner more than his actual bed.

The other man was on edge the entire time he showed him through the house though. Despite his own attempt of trying to lighten the mood, with retelling his brother’s shared lament of removing animals that would rather you left them alone. It was disheartening, and Alex shouldn’t have pushed himself inside the man’s haven like this he realised. Despite this, or maybe more so because of it, he was moved to see that Robbie had bought vegetables and fruits just for Alex’s visit, in spite of his own allergies and risking contaminating his own food. He'd brought some of his own foodstuff and a dispenser with fructose pills, not wanting to bring in allergenics into the man’s home. Robbie tried to downplay his expression of gratitude, poorly, he really hadn’t needed to do that for him and his ill-advised feelings badgered the forefront of is mind.

More so when Robbie admitted that Alex was the first person he’d ever invited over to stay.

Oh.

No wonder that he was on edge then.

He could relate, he too had been anxious when the man had been invited into his own home the first times. Not to speak of how inhospitable he’d been the very first time he’d crossed the threshold.

And, if anything, _he_ was the one who should be nervous, he was honoured that Robbie had willingly let him in and he voiced, tried to voice, that he did love his home, because it reflected Robbie so much. That whimsical side of him with bold colours and creativity. It seemed to work, Robbie’s shoulders ceased to be up by his ears and some of the tension melting away as they finished their dinner.

 

Then the man took him completely by surprise again by revealing another side of him with a personal project he’d been working on. Robbie had mentioned that his father had been a mechanic and that he knew his way around cars, enough to steal them, but, rebuilding and repurposing a pickup truck? And not only that, most of the repairs inside the house _had_ been by Robbie after all.

 

It was nice seeing this side of Robbie, when he got passionate about something, not argumentative, merely divulging in his own personal interest, small things that mattered to him, like language, his humour, pop culture and mechanics. Most flying over his own head, making him humbled, and yet happy to see him like this and that he was sharing it with him.

Like how to hotwire a car.

God, was there nothing the man couldn’t do?

He was more so surprised that he’d let him drive, Alex knew how Robbie felt about not being in control of any vehicle and he was glad that he trusted him, even if it was a tractor driving down a narrow road to look out over the peatlands and the lone meadow with potential.

 

It didn't take long for Alex to go and abuse that trust though, and he cursed himself.

 

He’d gone too far and messed up again. He’d severely miscalculated the weight distribution of the truck, surely Robbie couldn’t weight _that_ little.

As the man, understandably, bristled and threatened to walk the way back home something in Alex took a hold of his heart in a cold grip, a phantom of when Robbie had run off in the rain months before, and he reached out to stop him. He didn’t mean for this to happen. Tip of his tongue to tell him that he hadn’t meant to scare him.

 

He could save _that_ slip. Returning to normalcy almost with how Robbie was wrinkling his nose at the sight of himself in the mirror and huffing, making him laugh at the display.

 

But nothing could redeem the second breach of the man’s hard earned trust.

 

Once again marvelling over how the man’s height deceived how little he weighted in his arms, he settled him back to stand in front of him, and, just, didn’t let go. _Couldn_ _’t_ let go. Robbie was looking down at him, close, the light of the late sun catching on the few specks of colour he had in his irises that made the green in them highlight. Almost as when he’d run to catch that child, his body acted on its own and he pulled Robbie down roughly to put his mouth on him.

 

Mute and eyes wide, staring straight back down at him in appal as he pulled back, too late.

Oh god, what had he done? Not like this. Not like _this_. He’d, he’d forced himself on him. This was assault.

His bag was still packed, he could just take it and leave. Before he destroyed it all. “I can leave,” he managed to say after removing himself away from the man, hitting his backside against the door.

“Don’t, _please_.”

Don’t _what?!_ “Robbie?” Daring to hope.

Robbie pulled him back and kissed him, a soft touch that was everything and nothing of what he needed, his mind still coming to terms that this was happening, yet his body doing what it always did and acted on its own accord, taking hold and drawing himself closer.

Robbie pulled away slowly, his features soft.

“ _You?_ ” Alex breathed, a too open question.

Do you like me?

Do you feel the same?

 

_‘Do you love me?’_

 

All too much, too soon, to ask for.

“Yeah,” Robbie replied, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

Whatever it was, Alex would take it. Anything he would offer. And he put his mouth, his hands, his body, on him and Robbie drowning out his apology when he accidentally pushed him up too harshly with his desperation.

 

Robbie liked him. A lot.

That was good enough for him.

 

Humming and giddy as he waited for Robbie to emerge back from his shower, though the longer it took for him in there, doubt seeped in through the cracks, and he found himself staring out the window clutching a rag in his hands as he waited. Had Robbie changed his mind, and was hiding? He was brought back from his self-doubt by the baritone voice behind him. And, he’d been right all along, his hair was curly! Dressed in a robe, dark hair in damp coils and face naked, he flung himself into his arms. He was allowed to touch and to hold him. No more stealing moments and small comforts.

The smart thing would’ve been to take the option of being rational, not being hasty, and talk things through with the man. Instead he opted for sleeping with him. They both wanted it. Wanted each other.

 

He _hated_ that pump when the tubing snagged as Robbie undid his jeans and pulled them down, face wearing that expression he’d seen in a bar for a stranger, but this time all for _him_. Told him he was beautiful and pulled him into his lap and kissed him gently, soothing him, despite the hang up with dislocating himself and putting on the cover he’d put in his pocket when Robbie had been in the shower, not expecting, but hoping that they would do this, together.

 

Under him, around him. God, it was as if he was _made_ for him.

And that’s when he screwed up _again_.

He’d thought it safe, he couldn’t help uttering the words that had plagued him.

 

‘ _I love you._ ’

 

Safe to say like this, until they were ready. Still afraid to overwhelm him with how he felt. 

 

Except, there was no such thing as safe when it came to the man, never had been.

Robbie understood what he’d said. _Of course he had!_

 

Alex had been naïve and he _knew_ that he was rushing things.

And that’s why he was completely blown away when Robbie echoed the words to him, that Alex wasn’t alone in feeling like this.

Who’d hurt him? He laughed. No one. No one, but himself.

 

* * *

 

There was a split second of confusion of his whereabouts when he woke up, until he remembered the previous evening and settled back. Robbie was deep asleep next to him, warm and inviting. Unlike all the other times he’d seen him in this state in the early hours when he’d been tiptoeing around his flat trying not to wake him up, he could now actually touch him and rest his eyes on him unabashedly.

In the colourless dawn filtering into the room he found that time he’d never before had. Free from products he could see that Robbie’s hair was greying by his temples as he’d seen the rest of his beautiful body. An early greyer. He’d look good in silver, he mused and smiled fondly before he pressed a kiss by his ear, making Robbie mumble something in his sleep.

Reluctantly, he left the warmth to go downstairs in the chill morning air, taking supplies with him, he needed to replace the cartridge and adjust the settings for the insulin delivery. Not to speak of breakfast, he couldn’t skip or postpone his meals.

It was a thick fog surrounding the house and he almost missed the movement outside the window when he looked outside and he grinned wide at the sight of the deer, a handful of meters away and moving around the corner to graze.

Drunk with sleep and definitely not an early riser, Robbie didn’t seem to share the excitement, but Alex was used to that reaction. Had someone pointed and expressed excitement over animals and birds, mostly birds honestly, that he was accustomed to, he’d have shown mild interest as well. And, he could understand the man’s argument about undesirable tagalongs with the deer, all too well, his discussion with Álfur still fresh in mind. But, his lover complied to watch the animals with him, sharing the rare moment, with the promise that he’d join him in bed again, which was a win-win anyway.

Asking him if he ever thought of moving back while they were on the subject of earlier places he'd been… He had thought of it, in weak moments, but all he needed and wanted was _here_. The simple answer was no. No, he wasn’t going to move. He’d made up his mind about that with finality.

Back in bed, Alex couldn’t help but ask Robbie about his uncle, about his family.

Robbie had said he loved him, but if Alex kept this up and kept pushing for more, asking, digging into something that was clearly still a raw wound, then he’d soon change his mind.

He berated himself, why was he like this?

The discomfort was clear on the other’s face and he apologised, realising that he once again had gone too far.

Robbie being who he was, turned the tables on him with one simple question.

Did he really apologise that much?

He _did_.

Alex, he… He didn’t know what to do when Robbie looked at him like that, cornering him that easily.

 

How does one explain being guilty over being guilty and sorry for things that were already forgiven? Robbie just held him through it, as he was torn between wanting to tell him _everything_ and yet not wanting to overwhelm him.

It was only the tip of the iceberg, feelings he hadn’t unpacked, frustration, unreasonable fears, wanting Robbie to _settle_ for _him_ , all soothed to what extent his lover could offer. Telling him in turn of his feelings and Alex felt humbled and like an ass, blind for lack of better words. He’d never felt this vulnerable before, and that it was _alright_ , that he was free to be so. That manic feeling in his body coming to rest, _coming home._

 

As his lover took him, Alex let go of control and didn’t hold back as he’d done the previous evening when he hadn’t trusted himself, relishing in it as Robbie held him down into the bolster, marking him, kissing him and driving him straight over the edge and into climax. Enveloping him completely.

 

He didn’t want to leave in the evening, but he had to. They would see each other the next day, they both knew it, but it was with reluctancy they waited by the bus stop, Alex’s bag now filled with the fruits and greens Robbie couldn’t keep, along with a bottle of acetone. Nail polish remover, why hadn’t he thought of that?! He managed to get one last kiss in at least before he boarded the bus.

 

Alex had just so closed the door behind him, back in his own white flat that had started to take on hues and mementos of the other man when he received a message from him and he grinned when he read it, asking him if he’d gotten home safe. He had, and he understood now why it took that long to travel by bus despite the bee line showing that his house wasn’t _that_ far out.

He was probably overusing the amount of hearts, but it didn’t really matter as he wrote, ‘ _I love you. Good night._ _’_

He giggled when he received even more than he’d sent, feeling like a lovestruck teen. He wasn’t the only one that had been holding back, it would seem.

 

* * *

 

He tapped on the door of Bessie’s office and stuck his head in, confirming that he hadn’t been mistaken, she was indeed in.

“Aren’t you on holiday?” he asked, he had taken on her administrative work for nearly two weeks now and she wasn’t supposed to be back until another two when it was his turn to go on holiday.

She looked up from the folder she was flipping through. “I am, but I had to come into town to drop off one of Stephanie’s friends.” She let out an outdrawn sigh, “also I needed a short breather from trailer camping, I love Milford, I truly do, but being cooped up like that makes me want to scream. At least Stephanie thinks it fun, as long as she has friends and activities she’s content.”

“That’s good to hear, about Stephanie.”

“She told me, to tell you, that you should come by,” she said with a wry smile. “Anyway, how have things been faring in my absence?” she asked.

“It’s gone smoothly. I think there’s a few of the temps, that we should ask if they’re interested in staying.” Even with Robbie, the past seven months had proved that they were still severely understaffed to deal and prepare for incidents.

She hummed and nodded, having an idea of which ones he was referring to. “And the administrative?” she asked with an imploring look.

“Manageable,” he stated. He still didn’t like being sedentary, but they _needed_ to structure and manage their work. And if that someone was Alex, then so be it. It was only fair, they _all_ had to compromise, and he wasn’t above it, something he’d come to realise as well these past seven months. He bit his lip and added, “I should probably give you a heads up… It’s about Robbie, and me.”

“Oh god,” she said and put down the folder. “What now? I thought you two were getting along?”

He put his hands before him to reassure her as he sputtered, “no, well, yes. It’s… Well, he and I, I just wanted to give you a heads up as I said, we’re, I suppose the word is dating?” Truth be told, they had been for little over a month now.

She stared at him. Then threw her head back with pearly laughter.

“Bessie?”

“Of course,” she snickered, putting a hand over her mouth as she snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Uhm, well…”

She only shook her head and said, “I really should have seen this coming from the start.”

Heat crept up his collar and Bessie chortled at his embarrassed expression.

“You are too precious. The both of you,” she clucked and got up and out of the small office. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I know you value your privacy.”

 

It was better not to think of how much information the woman actually sat on.

 

The late evening air was warm as he bicycled home, still somewhat shell shocked from Bessie’s reaction. Had he really been that obvious?

Well, maybe not _that_ obvious, or she would have said something before she’d gone on holiday. They had been seeing each other for weeks now, and he had managed to take Robbie out on a proper dinner date on his birthday the previous weekend, making the other man misty eyed and swearing under his breath how _he_ was ruining his makeup. There had however been a damper put on the occasion later in the evening when Robbie had received messages from senders he didn’t recognise, and had spent the last days being anxious over it.

Something was definitely up, but he had to restrain himself from pushing, especially when Robbie didn’t seem to know what was going on either and only risking stressing him out.

Alex unlocked the door and found his lover waiting for him inside with a greeting drifting into the hallway, not uncommon after he’d given him an extra key. It was just easier that way for both of them during Robbie’s scheduled holiday he’d figured.

Funny, they worked and saw each other every day for hours on end, and the moment they decide to date they go on _separate_ holidays. And in another few weeks his brother would come to visit… That would be interesting, to introduce Robbie to his older brother.

He rounded the corner to enter the kitchen area to greet Robbie, his appearance made him give pause though.

Robbie looked tired and his eyes were red-rimmed.

Was something the matter? Had his allergies flared up over something in his home? “Are you alright?” he asked and came up to touch him where he sat in the kitchen area, rubbing circles with his thumb behind his neck and settle on his shoulder.

“I tracked down the numbers from my thirtieth,” he said bluntly.

“Oh? What did you come up with?” he asked.

“It was… It was my brothers, all three of them…” He rubbed his face in his hands and groaned, leaning onto his elbows atop the kitchen table, “I’ve been on the phone since lunch.”

 _Oh_.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He chuckled wearily, “later… I’ve been prattling for hours on end. It’s a lot to take in.”

Alex nodded. Robbie’s family was a sore spot and Alex trusted him to come to him later as he’d said, when he’d gathered himself.

“I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay?” he said and took the hand that had been resting on his shoulder into his own and gave it a squeeze.

“Yes, sure.”

 

With the muted sound of running water coming from the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes until he was only in his underwear and laid down on his stomach on top of the duvet. The pump lying next to him, doing it’s job. He put on his reading glasses and flipped open the paperback he was currently reading.

He’d lost track of time, but it couldn’t have been that long when the sound of naked feet entered the bedroom and the bed dipped down by his legs.

He smiled and kept looking pointedly down at the open page he was on as he felt his lover tug on his underwear, pulling them down. He felt the hot breath on his buttocks, anticipated _something_ to happen. Still he jolted at the sting of teeth sinking in.

“Did you just bite my butt?!” he said in accusation and twisted his body to look down at the offender.

“Sorry.”

Robbie did not look one bit sorry at all. In fact, he looked more than pleased with himself, grey mottled eyes glinting in mischief at him, the tiredness in them washed away and skin warm and pinked as he was kneeling on the bed in nothing but a short sheer bathrobe that left little to the imagination. Being fully naked would’ve been less scandalous somehow.

How someone could be so childish yet so solemn at times was beyond him

“I love you,” he uttered at the display and smiled, his mask of play offense slipping.

Robbie’s brow rose in what had to be astonishment. “I bite your ass, _and you say you love me?_ Okay, good to know for future references.” He grinned and crawled over him, Alex took off his glasses and put them to the side as he turned onto his back. “I love you too, silly,” he murmured when he had him enveloped, all around him, just the way he liked it and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... that depression tag wasn't for Robbie...  
> This giant mess of words I call "chapter" fought me, or more like, I fought _myself_ , ending up scrapping it, taking it back, erasing and slashing it down to half, reviving it from extra saved files yet again, being on the verge of obsession, and finally acceptance that this was a monster I had lost control over and ready to set loose on the townspeople. 
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, I'd like to thank everyone that have left kudos and all the amazing comments that has kept me going. It's been a rough ride. Especially this past week where EVERYTHING has gone wrong and I have to refocus my life and where I'm going.  
> Having everything said and done, I will NOT stop creating content for this fandom, not for as long as I still have ideas. I will however take a hiatus from writing (fanfics anyway, your dude has signed up for NaNoWriMo... We'll see how that pans out) and focus more on art, studies, and good ol' surviving.


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